We're Only Here Because Time Bred Luck
by wixley-kryptonese
Summary: Tonks and Remus wake up on November 1st, 1990 - hold up though, why aren't we enjoying, I don't know, martinis on a beach somewhere in the afterlife? /timetravel fix-it fic, Remadora, Remus/Tonks
1. Chapter 1

"-Tonks!"

Dora shot up, blinking awake, "What time is it?" She looked around, becoming confused as she found herself in a classroom, with her old friend Charlie right beside her, hand on her shoulder. "Am I still dreaming or something?"

"No, Miss Tonks, and you would do good not to sleep in my class!" Came a chirpy voice. Dora turned her head, blinking again at the sight of her old Arithmancy teacher – Professor Vector, who gave her a soft smile. "I know that your mother has taught you all this already, Miss Tonks, but if you want to keep up with assignments and internal classwork, you need to pay attention."

… _okay?_ Dora blinked once more for good measure, before nodding and looking down at the paper in front of her. Arithmancy – easy peasy stuff her mum had taught her as a kid. That was NEWT-level. And in actual fact, something she'd been using a lot more regularly due to being cooped up in her mum's house, pregnant with Teddy. Arithmancy was the basis to all wards, after all, and she and her mum had been in charge of setting up safe house after safe house in the last year of the war, when she'd ran off from the Ministry and the Auror Core.

"You seem really distracted, Tonks," Charlie whispered beside her, making Dora glance at him, which was weird, because she controlled her dreams, and she hadn't imagined him saying that. "I told you we shouldn't have stayed up last night with Ogden – you're still hungover from all those shots." Dora tried to understand what was going on, but Vector asked her a question, which she answered with only a few seconds of thinking, gaining ten points for Hufflepuff.

 _Still hungover from all those shots…_ suddenly she remembered the night. Edward Ogden, a fellow Hufflepuff, had dragged her, Charlie, and about a dozen others out to the boathouse for a Halloween celebration of their own making, where they'd hung out around a hidden campfire of bluebell flames, drinking and playing games. Dora had taken part in most of the drinking games, such as Never Have I Ever, Firewhiskey vs Fish Oil, and Shot Poker. She'd taken part in the Strip Poker, too, but unfortunately, she'd been too good at poker to loose many items of clothing, instead gaining a small hoard of sickles and galleons – knuts were disallowed from being used after two rounds and a drunken mix-up and subsequent drunken fist-fight over the loose bronzes.

"Just give me a minute," she muttered back, after a few more seconds of thinking, before looking around more thoroughly. Something wasn't right, everything was too detailed. It was like she was immersed in a pensieve, but at the same time, not…the last thing she could remember was Bellatrix, and-

Her blood ran cold.

" _Avada kedavra!_ "

Suddenly she couldn't breathe, hands shaking, ink-pot getting pushed off the desk – smashing on the floor as she swerved, falling off her seat just in time to throw up. Her ears were buzzing, her stomach roiling in protest. _I died, I_ _ **died**_ _. Bellatrix_ _ **killed**_ _me-_

"Tonks, are you alright? Fuck, Merlin – I _knew_ something was wrong with you!" Charlie's familiar hands pulled back her hair, holding back what Dora saw to be bright, Hufflepuff yellow strands. She didn't hesitate to turn them pink, calming at the sensation of bubblegum pink magic flowing through her to coat the dull yellow. Charlie's grip loosened sharply, before she sagged to the side, steering clear of the puddle that a fellow student silently vanished.

"Oh dear," Professor Vector murmured, before coming to help her up. "Mr Weasley, take Miss Tonks to the hospital wing. Unfortunately I'll have to ask you to come back quickly, as your studies would be forfeit otherwise – but do, please, Miss Tonks," she directed her attention to the sickly metamorphmagus, "get better. I'm sure it's nothing."

Dora nodded weakly, before trudging towards the door, only Charlie's helpful arm stopping her from tumbling down again due to the weight of her boots – clunky, black leather lace-ups, yet to be replaced by more comfortable red Doc Martins, courtesy of her father, a present for getting into Auror Academy. As they exited the classroom, Charlie pestered her, trying to understand what was wrong, but she ignored him, silent all the way, a myriad of thoughts running through her head. What had happened to Remus? Was Teddy okay? Why was she here? Was she dreaming? How could her last memory be of Bellatrix killing her? A thousand more went unanswered.

By the time they got the hospital wing, after trudging up two flights of stairs, then descending three, only one question remained.

 _Why the hell am I not dead?_

* * *

"Well, other than the magical imbalance, there's nothing wrong with you – except the large amounts of alcohol still within your system from what I suspect is a rather self-indulgent night," Madam Pomfrey looked at her with reprimand, seemingly ten years younger. _Or rather, seven and a half years younger. And eight days._ Dora had always been brilliant at maths, especially subtraction and addition. "You probably ate something during your drunken stupor that caused a part of your magic to revolt. I'll be keeping you in for observation – when do you suppose you started your alcohol-imbibing adventure?"

Dora scratched the back of her neck at that, trying to pull some memories together. "Uhh…well, we all snuck out at ten, got back to our dorms at three in the morning…" she winced at the matron's disappointed look, "Sorry Poppy." Said matron then hit her on the head with her wand. "Ow!"

"That'll be Madam Pomfrey to misbehaving teenagers." Pomfrey went over to a cabinet near her bed, taking out a familiar brew from a small drawer. "Here," she uncorked the glass vial, holding it out. Dora took the hangover draught without fuss, grimacing after it had gone down – then shut her eyes with a sigh as she felt a mind-numbing headache she hadn't even noticed to be there, disappear. Thinking much clearer, Dora took off her boots, bringing her feet up onto the bed as Madam Pomfrey tapped her forehead again, lighter this time, a tingling of magic running through her before the healer directed it to a piece of parchment, reading it silently.

"So, what's wrong with me then? What's a magical imbalance?"

"It is exactly how it describes itself. Your magic is reacting to a foreign substance, similar to fluctuations in a young witch's hormones, but the effects are varied. If you do not show signs of any more negative physical effects after two more days, then you may leave – though I will be having Mr Weasley keep an eye out for you. For all I know, you consumed magic mushrooms. Mental effects are much more easily discerned by close friends," Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes, before levitating a pair of hospital pyjamas over to the end of her bed, "A house-elf shall bring you dinner." Then she turned on her heel and left, leaving Dora all alone in the infirmary.

In the silence, her mind began to travel in directions she didn't want to go, and soon she was in the pyjamas, curled up in the blankets, feeling mentally exhausted and not a little physically tired. She didn't know how she'd gotten here, or why, but if she wasn't dreaming, then…

Then Dora was somehow back in time, as ludicrous as it might sound. If it were true though, Dora would have to redo so much – would she even be able to? The metamorphmagus didn't hold back tears at the thought of Teddy, and Remus. _My baby_...she'd left him with her mother, to join his father. What did it matter that Remus could have died? She shouldn't have left him – what if, right now, somewhere in the future, in another timeline, Remus was holding Teddy at her funeral? What if…

What if the future had gone, and Teddy didn't even exist?

She couldn't contain the half-sob, half-laugh at that. _Merlin! He's probably better off!_ For all she knew, Voldemort had won – he could have killed Harry and taken over the world, and her son- _her son_ , he would have grown up in a world where muggles were eradicated, and everyone lived in fear. In hindsight, Dora figured that Teddy would probably live – he was a metamorphmagus, after all, just like her. Special. He'd probably have been taken from her mum and given to- given to _Bellatrix_ , most likely, raised by a lunatic to bow at the Dark Lord's feet like a _dog_ – they'd call him a dog, too, probably turn him into a werewolf to be _just like his goody, Order of the Phoenix, Light father_.

Dora hiccupped. _Remus_. She squeezed her eyes shut. Remus was still alive. She could meet him again, fall in love with him all over again. But no, that wouldn't be fair – he'd had enough trouble being with her in the future. No way would he be with her in this timeline, if she even managed to make it that far. Dora scoffed. _Probably going to get myself killed on a stupid Auror raid or something just as silly._ Maybe she'd get run over by a muggle car, or get pissed _just_ enough to stumble in an alley and forget to apparate home before someone killed her. Maybe she would even get killed. Maybe she just wouldn't meet him. That would be terrible – no, more than terrible. It would break her heart.

 _I'll write him a letter_ , she promised herself, _and damn the timeline, even if I can never love him the same, at least he'll know me as a friend._ Determined to write to him, Dora sat up, going over to her folded clothes, taking a black felt tip from her pocket – her dad had given them to her the last time she'd gone to a Weird Sister's concert, so any signature she managed to get on her t-shirt wouldn't cause her mother to rant and rave about the literal ink stains and sometimes even rips that came alongside quills and fabric. Pushing her sleeve up, she bullet-pointed her arm.

 _First, write out a letter_ , she wrote small, and carefully, determined to make it legible. _Second, find an owl clever and young enough to make the journey to wherever the hell he's hiding out, with only a name. Third_. At that, she paused, because what then? Wait forever? He might not even write _back_. Dora breathed in tightly at that, before going back to her arm. _Third, send another letter if he doesn't reply, then do it on a weekly basis, all explaining why the hell he should write back to me._

Happy with her short list, Dora put the pen in her jacket pocket again, then fiddled around with everything – only to come across her wand. She stared at it, surprised she'd forgotten. Taking it, she went to place it in her usual holster, which had sat comfortably sideways in the small of her back, before realising it wasn't there yet. Sighing, she held it limply in her two hands, eyes roving the straight, lightly striped wand with its spade-shaped ending, seemingly made to fit the curve of her thumb – " _Cypress and unicorn tail-hair, twelve and a half inches, soft and bendy. A good wand for such an amazingly talented child._ " Oh, how long it had been since Ollivander had first handed it to her in that dusty old shop of his. She wondered what the significance of it all meant – she knew that unicorn tail-hair's bonded strongly to their first owner, and didn't make that powerful wands, but cypress, well, she didn't have a clue.

Dora then waved it lazily, not expecting the burst of fire that escaped the end. Crying out and dropping it, she tumbled back, shuffling sharply, until her head hit the metal frame with a bump – but Dora ignored her pain, instead staring at her wand, which was puffing out the occasional spark of flame, the covers luckily not catching. "What the…"

"Miss Tonks?" Madam Pomfrey popped her head out of her office, alarmed, "What-"

"It's my wand, ma'am," she interrupted, reaching her bare foot over only to pull back as it let out a sharp burst of flame, "It's not letting me touch it."

Madam Pomfrey fully came out of the office, looking at her wand with a deep-set frown, "I will notify Professor Sprout – do not touch it," she ordered, looking Dora in the eyes. The metamorphmagus nodded, belatedly becoming aware of her hair having gone an ashen white in her fear. Turning it back as Madam Pomfrey left again, going back into her office, Dora got out of the bed slowly, going to sit on the next one, eyes flickering sideways as she noticed a paper aeroplane flying off. _Probably going to Sprout_. It felt odd to be in this situation – in this kind of… _box_ , where her actions, and the actions of her wand were watched by teachers and officials, who told other teachers and officials…Dora started to realise what being back at Hogwarts really meant.

 _I'm going to be treated like a Circe-damn kid again, aren't I?_


	2. Chapter 2

Seeing Dumbledore looking over her like a creeper was _not_ how she wanted to wake up. Fortunately though, Dora had made it a habit to turn into teachers during her Hogwarts career, and she and Dumbledore had a long relationship of playing other Hogwarts students. With how he looked at her now, seeing her awake, it was almost too easy to slip back into that skin.

"Wotcher, Head," she grinned cheekily, sitting up and sorting out her clothes, pulling the halfway-up-her-chest shirt down with now care for the people inside the infirmary…who she believed counted up to five, including Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey. A glance around saw Ollivander – and _wow_ , did he look younger, the war really did a number on him in the future – handling her wand delicately, peering at it, top to bottom; Professor Sprout, making the bed she'd been in beforehand; and on the other side of the bed she was laying on right then, stood-

"Mum?" She stared in horror, because a) Madam Pomfrey knew she'd binged last night, b) at this time in her teenage life, Dora knew that she and her mother weren't exactly on the best of terms due to her want to be an Auror, and c) she was wearing a dressing gown. A dressing gown covered in puppies. From head to toe. All over. In _puppies._ "You couldn't have at least got _dressed_ before coming to see me?"

Andromeda's gaze flipped to Dora without a second thought, eyes narrowing. "I will dress how I like, young lady, and I'm only here because I needed to get away from Ted's constant badgering about your welfare. His promotion to weatherman at the BBC means he's working right now. He wouldn't stop calling the house asking if you were alright – he still considers you a child through muggle laws." She glared slightly, and despite the fact that Dora wanted to end the feud already, that wouldn't end until after she was halfway through Auror Academy, she was still wearing the dressing gown, so instead ignored her, instead looking back to Dumbledore.

"So what's so bad that I've got the headmaster at my bedside?" _And when did I fall asleep, for a matter of fact_. Dora looked at the only clock in the hospital wing, frowning lightly at seeing that it was around ten in the evening.

"Well, my dear, that would be because your wand caused somewhat of a fire while you were asleep," he said, motioning to the bed that Professor Sprout was painstakingly making. Dora looked, and now that she looked, she could see the black marks on the metal bars of the bed, and the black soot residue on the floor – could taste it in the air. She put a hand to her mouth, trying to filter the suddenly magic-filled air, cloying in intensity. Dumbledore noted her reaction and raised an eyebrow.

Dora inwardly swore, keeping her face calm – she wasn't supposed to be able to sense magic for another few years, in Auror training.

"Mr Ollivander here," Dumbledore continued, "was able to come here this evening to inspect your wand, and he has come to a conclusion: it is no longer yours." Dora's eyes widened.

"What? But- how?" She looked to Ollivander, who shuffled over slowly, sitting down on a handy chair, her wand still twirling in his spindly fingers.

"It is strange – the bond you share with your wand has been…well, I would say your wand has chosen a new master, but it has not. It is as if your connection has been snapped – and you are now an imposter, trying to bond with it under the guise of its old mistress. I do have to wonder, if that is why you're in this wing at all," he raised an eyebrow at her, and Dora swallowed, before shrugging, fidgeting as she stayed silent.

Dumbledore glanced at the wandmaker, "Miss Tonks came into the hospital wing after a bout of unpleasantness due to nausea in her Arithmancy class – Madam Pomfrey has decreed the cause to be an imbalance of her magic."

Ollivander looked to Madam Pomfrey sharply, frowning, before looking back to Dora, staring at her long and hard. Everyone was silent, watching him, until he hummed in a dissatisfactory manner, pocketing her wand and standing.

"I expect you to visit my shop in the next few days for your new wand – your old one will not take you. As this is a special case, I will only charge five out of the usual seven galleons, but I don't expect that to be a problem, if your mother's ability to buy sleak-easy's is anything to go by," he chuckled as Andromeda looked at him, affronted. "I mean no offence, Madam Tonks, but there are others who cannot so lightly consider purchasing a new wand. Maybe we should make an appointment – Madam Pomfrey," he looked to the healer, "When is Miss Tonks allowed to leave your lovely infirmary?"

Madam Pomfrey blushed slightly at his manners, prompting Dora to make a funny face, before said metamorphmagus was suddenly tapped on the forehead once more by said healer. Another piece of parchment filled, her eyes ran over it for a moment before she made a noise.

"Well, once Miss Tonks' mysterious need for extra sleep and most likely extra food is dealt with, then she should be free – I would expect her on either the third or fourth of November." Dora made another face, before it changed to an uneasy one as her stomach suddenly panged.

"Uh, could I get some food?" She questioned, making Andromeda tut and Madam Pomfrey glare at the unhappy mother.

"It is to be expected. I'm tempted to ask you to leave."

"I'm tempted _to_ leave," Andromeda said primly, not looking at Dora as she questioned the healer, "So that's it then? All she has to do it eat?"

"The magical imbalance is taking a lot of her energy-"

At that point, Dora agreed with herself that she nodded off, waking up to a plate of steaming meat pie and vegetables and an empty infirmary. She blinked awake, rubbing her eye as she glanced around, a house-elf disappearing as she glanced in their direction. She looked to the food.

No way was she leaving that pie there to go cold, even if she hated pie – she was too hungry for hatred today.

* * *

"You know, I was quite intrigued by your old wand – and wary," Ollivander called through the shop. Dora listened, mainly so she wouldn't have to deal with her mother, who was being more of a bitch than she remembered. "Cypress is a wood for witches and wizards with a certain proclivity for selflessness and bravery – those who own cypress wands would give their lives for others, fighting for them with a tenacity that has indeed frightened many a wizard in the past." He came through with a bundle of wands, looking positively radiant as he spoke his next words. "Why, in times of war, those who were chosen by the cypress often died heroic deaths."

"Heroic death?" Her mother whispered to herself behind Dora, the metamorphmagus refusing to react. She'd faced down her own aunt in an attempt to find her husband, to save him – so in a way, she _had_ died a heroic death. Thinking about it made her consider that maybe this was supposed to happen then. Her wand of this time was obviously having trouble with her. It probably sensed that she was dead – if Ollivander thought that her wand was going to get resold, then he was in for a disappointment. _More likely to grow into a tree than partner itself with an eleven year old_ , she thought privately as Ollivander started giving her wands.

It didn't take long for her to find another wand though. She'd tried a lot of wands when she first came – it was feasible to believe Ollivander had an inkling into which wand might better suit her now.

"Ash and unicorn tail-hair," Ollivander announced, after Dora waved it and produced a silent shower of pink, amber and turquoise sparks, staring at them even as her wand warmed in her hand. "Ten and a quarter inches, strong – which is to be expected. Ash wands are ideally owned by those of a courageous, if stubborn nature. Though not the impetuous," he added sharply, as Andromeda went to remark on it, "or those of an arrogant state of mind. You will do well with this wand, Miss Tonks," he nodded to Dora, who handed over the agreed five galleons, taking the box in return. "I wish you luck in your endeavours."

"Thank-you," she replied, before pausing, "Do you happen to sell holsters?"

"I do, though not many variations," Ollivander replied, sounding not at all surprised. He went back behind his desk, bringing up a wooden box, pulling out various constructs. Dora came forward, looking for the same kind of one she'd gotten from Moody after graduating Auror Academy – she found it quickly, and was confused to find it was _actually_ the one she'd gotten from Moody. She held it up.

"How much for this one?"

"Nymphadora," her mother scoffed, "when are you going to need a _holster_ , of all things?"

"It's useful, mum," Dora replied, "and don't call me Nymphadora. Just-" she breathed in suddenly, realising that this could actually go a _lot_ different now, if she continued her sentence. Dora looked to her new wand. _Courageous, eh?_ She breathed in, before turning. "Okay. I'm sure calling me Nymphadora at birth was very special to you, as I am your only daughter, and only bloody child – but at this point in my life, I do not appreciate that _special_. I can understand you not calling me Tonks like my friends – you're a Tonks too, and Dad," she paused, because _holy Circe, Dad's alive, he's actually_ _ **alive**_ _,_ "Dad…Dad is _the_ Tonks." Dora met her mother's eyes. "This is me telling you that, for you, and two other people in this entire world, it is okay for you to call me Dora. Okay? You, and Dad, and-" she stopped herself from saying _Remus_. "You and dad. _Just you_. Do you get that?"

Andromeda, in answer to this, didn't say a word. Dora let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding, shoulder's dropping, losing the tenseness from before. She turned back to Ollivander.

"Sorry about that – so how much is this?" She motioned to the holster. Ollivander's gaze, which had been focused on her quite fiercely, drifted to the holster.

"Nineteen sickles," he replied. Dora put her new wand and it's box down, digging around in her pockets, bringing out her change, and counting it out on his wooden countertop. She wrinkled her nose at the two-sickle lack. _This is what comes from wearing skinny jeans with unextended pockets._ She glanced behind her.

"Mum, do you have any spare change?" She watched her, and for a tense few seconds, her mum didn't even make a move to go for her purse – but then she did, and yet another weight lifted off her shoulders as she came forwards, handing over the extra two sickles. Then she pushed some galleons into Dora's hand. Dora looked at them. Five. "Mum, it's fine," she tried to give them back, "I can pay for my own wand." Andromeda shut her extended hand.

"I'm your mother, and you will let me pay for your wand, Dora," she spoke softly, giving a nervous smile. Dora didn't hesitate to smile back before pocketing the galleons and launching into her mum's frame, hugging her tightly. Andromeda hugged her back just as tight, before Dora kissed her cheek and pulled away, bouncing slightly as she took her new wand holster, expertly strapping it on around her belly, remembering a time where she couldn't wear it due to Teddy.

Picking up her wand again, she twirled it in her fingers, getting used to the grip before stowing it away, picking up the box and flashing a toothy grin at Ollivander.

"Thanks, Mr O."

He grinned back, "It was my pleasure, Miss Tonks."


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Moony,_

 _At the Burrow, at Ottery St Catchpole, otherwise known as the Weasley residence, is home to a rat – in two terms. It's quite damning actually, when you think about it. Sorry. I'm not going anywhere with that at the moment. I'm rambling. I don't know how to phrase this without it seeming, I don't know – heart-breaking, would be a word for it. Please don't stop reading. I'm about to assuage you of any guilt you might feel for 'not knowing Sirius was a Death Eater'._

 _Please don't stop reading._

 _The first thing you should know, is that Sirius wasn't actually a Death Eater – you'll find that was Peter. Yeah. Peter_ _fucki_ _Pettigrew. Sorry about the near-swear-accidental-swear-that-still-turned-out-to-be-a-swear-but-spelt-wrong. Anyway. Peter's an animagus, yeah? So is Sirius – you're a werewolf, I know. I don't care, by the way. You're a good man, and don't go around like Greyback biting every_ _fucking_ _five year old he meets. Sorry. I swore again._

 _Anyway, if you went to the Burrow, you'd find a familiar little animagus in the bed of one Ronald Weasley_

"Crap," Dora stopped, staring at the letter. "Merlin, I can't…" She couldn't tell Remus. She had to tell the DMLE – Amelia Bones, Moody, _anyone_. Before, it had been in the past, but this was _now_. And he wasn't in Ron's bed – he wouldn't get 'Scabbers' until- "He comes to Hogwarts," Dora whispered in growing horror. "He's-" _he's with Percy Weasley. Percy fricking Weasley. In Hogwarts,_ _ **right now**_ _._ And that wasn't the worst part. Tonks didn't know if Pettigrew was a child molester, but if he was acting as a _pet_ , then he could easily be sharing Percy's _bed_ and that was horrible enough, because he was a _fully grown man_ -

Dora took out her wand, burning the letter in front of her. _I have to contact the DMLE._ Quickly, she took another piece of parchment out of her bag, re-inking her quill and writing out the anonymous tip, using an old Auror Code she'd learnt about in the Academy – it was supposed to be if an Auror in hiding found out something that needed to be reported ASAP. She was technically an Auror in hiding.

Right?

But it didn't matter now, because she'd already finished writing it out, and from the glowing around the paper, the Awareness Charm had already picked up the magical serial sequence in the signature, specifically designed in a way that incorporated runes and the Arithmancy diagram for Protego. A few seconds later, the parchment disappeared, and Dora felt like she was going to be sick. _I hope to Merlin Percy's okay._ If he wasn't, she didn't know what she'd do – but at least she'd reported it. No-one but Dora could ever blame her if if it didn't go through.

She looked back to the table, "I've still got to write to Remus…" she muttered to herself as a reminder, before she took out a piece of parchment, spreading it out and staring. What could she write? How would she even write? Before her realisation, Dora had been all for getting his trust through Pettigrew's arrest, but if that wasn't an option anymore…

"What you doing?" Came Charlie's voice. Dora jumped, hand knocking over her inkpot – all over her drying Potions essay. She cursed, picking it up and holding it upside down, but knew it was already ruined. "Oh, shit, sorry Tonks." The redhead took out his wand, using a nifty spell to siphon the ink off the desk and parchment, manually re-righting the inkpot so the siphoned ink could slip inside. The essay was still ruined. "I'll write it out for you, 'kay? Don't worry about it-"

"No, it's fine," she could deal with one late essay. It had been for next period, anyway. There was no time. "What do you want, dragon-boy?"

Charlie rolled his eyes at the name, before sitting opposite her, "Just came to see you. You've been distracted, these past few days. Madam Pomfrey's asking questions that I really don't want to answer – you're already having to do most of your classes with sixth-years."

Dora gave a slight grin, putting the dead essay down. "Technically, _I am_ , but yeah, I get it. You care about my education and don't want me to have to spend another eight months in St Mungos."

"This is serious, Tonks," Charlie suddenly whispered, leaning forwards with an expression of fierce worry, "If you get carted off to St Mungos again, you _know_ the Auror Academy won't accept you – your studies are too stunted as it is."

Dora glared, hair turning red, "Leave it alone, Weasley, I can handle myself – and I _will_ get into the Auror Academy, you hear me? So don't go shitting on my dreams by prattling to Pomfrey or so help me Charles I will-"

"Will what, _Nymphadora_?" The most annoying voice in the universe interrupted. Dora's teeth clicked together audibly as she straightened in her seat, turning to face her number one enemy in school – also the most unlikely.

"Moon," Dora said delicately, "I will turn your perfect blonde hair into a polka dot mess of frizz if you call me that again – and anyway, you have some poor Ravenclaw to beg into doing your homework, what are you here to do? Seduce _me_ into doing it? I am a sixth year now, after all." She fluttered her eyelashes at her fellow Hufflepuff, who sneered before sitting down next to Charlie, leaning against him, said Weasley letting her as she leaned up to kiss him.

Because unfortunately, Kali Moon was the only person in the entire school that Charlie Weasley loved more than dragons.

Dora rolled her eyes as they continued to kiss, Kali manoeuvring herself onto his lap without even touching the table, Charlie just letting her do whatever she wanted for the sake of their so-called love. _Stupid demisexual_ , she shook her head. And to think – Kali was going to break it off with him the day before graduation so her family didn't see her with a _'dirty blood-traitor'_ when they came to the ceremony. If there was a ceremony at all – Tonks couldn't remember. They stopped having ceremonies either this year or the next, and Tonks had been hungover in her dorm the morning she should be shaking hands with Cornelius bleeding Fudge.

"I'll be going, then, clearly you're about to start shagging right here and now," she started packing, not really wanting to end up hanging about the Slytherin in yellow colours, which _would_ happen if she stayed.

Kali seemed to pay attention at that though, and pulled her sucker lips off Charlie's face, "Oh no, sit – I want to know what Charlie's being threatened into _not_ doing, straight from your pretty mouth, _Nymphadora_." The blonde met her eyes, and Dora turned them into cat's to freak her out, smirking at the flinch – Kali was afraid of cats, always had been. _Nice to know that trick works in whatever time I'm in_ , she thought to herself, before sitting down.

Because unfortunately, Charlie was the worst secret-keeper in the entire Wizarding World, and he wouldn't last a minute.

"So?" Kali prompted, turning to sit on the table. Dora leant back in her chair, before taking out a little hand-mirror and changing her hairstyle up a big – sucking in a lot of her hair on one side, leaving a kind of undercut, while the rest shortened around it at the back, lengthening the further it went around, until it got back to the front, which stayed to her chin. It hid her eyebrow piercing's, but that was okay – the other five in her now bare ear were now completely unveiled, including her stretcher. _Nice to have those b-_

" _Nymphadora!_ " Kali snapped, bringing Dora's attention back to her sharply, lips peeling back to reveal fangs, entire face morphing into a cats before Charlie hissed to her.

"Tonks, stop it."

Dora reverted back to her normal face, but still glared, taking out her wand and deftly hitting Kali with a delayed spell, the teen staring at her fearfully before she spoke.

"I ate something weird, and now it's coming back to haunt me, because apparently I've been acting different – but if Madam Pomfrey gets wind, she'll cart me off to St Mungos and my chance at being an Auror vanishes," she glared even harder as Kali's brow knitted together.

"Well it sucks to be you," and just like that, Kali was satisfied. She had her new blackmail, and in five minutes, her hair would become a frizzy mess even more glorious than Hermione Granger's, with green and purple polka dots to go. Then the bell rang. Dora allowed herself a short smirk before standing, gathering her things.

…and then of course, she remembered the damn essay. "Crap."

* * *

"Today, we'll be doing our last supervised practices of the Patronus Charm."

Tonks' head slowly tilted up, so she could see the DADA teacher rather than the ceiling. She smirked, wand twirling in her hand. _I can do this_. She'd been able to do it last time around, as well – but that time, her jack-rabbit was only half-formed, the small shape barely visible. This last lesson, the ears had become visible. Later, with the Order of the Phoenix, and their ways of communicating, she'd perfected her Patronus…she, however, quickly realised she had another problem.

She was in love with Remus.

The professor had them make a circle, the desks being banished to the side of the room. Professor Edgley was a queer chap, and barely performed any magic at all, but he was passionate about his subject, and in helping his students. He was going to leave at the end of the year though, so Professor Quirrell could take over. Anyway though – he had them form a circle, and then Professor Dumbledore, who was a regular in their lessons on Patroni, joined them.

So you may now understand that this was indeed why she was in trouble – because Dumbledore knew any mental differences could be chalked down to her magical imbalance, that was seen as extremely serious in the eyes of Madam Pomfrey. He'd been there when her jack-rabbit started forming, and seen all it's progressions. And seeing her now-changed Patronus? Well – it seemed like her Auror career was now in the tip. _Maybe the Hit-Wizard's will take me…_

"Mr Reed, why won't you go first?" Professor Edgley smiled at Reed. Dora glanced at him. He was her neighbour in the circle. _Dammit, what was his again? Boar? Bear? Something beginning with a B…_ He stepped forwards, concentrating for a second before conjuring his Patronus, a buffalo. _A buffalo! That's it!_

The circle went clockwise, meaning Dora was last. In that time, she got to see everyone's Patroni, including Dumbledore's phoenix, but excluding Professor Edgley. When they finally came to her, Dora stepped forwards, shutting her eyes as she tried to think of her happiest memory. _Mum and Dad – Dad being alive_ , she thought, opening her eyes and enchanting the spell.

"Expecto Patronum!" She waited for the wolf – but barely any mist escaped her wand. Her features contorted.

"Try again, Miss Tonks – a different memory, perhaps?" Edgley smiled encouragingly, as he had with some of the other students having trouble. Dora glared at her wand, but agreed sadly. _Sorry, Mum, Dad…_ and then it clicked, and she blinked several times, forcing away tears before just shutting her eyes as she imagined Teddy and Remus – her boys. She thought of them in her mother's kitchen, Remus pacing to and fro in the darkness, the moon gone and the only light coming from a single candle. She remember just watching, seeing the love of her life holding their baby, with his turquoise hair looking green in the shadows.

"Miss Tonks?"

Dora opened her eyes, wiping her eyes, hyperaware of everyone's stares before she raised her wand – her new ash wand that felt so foreign in her grasp – and stepped her right leg forward without thinking, the image of Teddy and Remus in her minds eye, stuck there on an eternal loop.

"Expecto Patronum."

It was barely a whisper.

And then out came the wolf, fully corporeal. He was large – larger than he'd ever been, standing at six hands tall, fur visible in such detail that if Dora hadn't known better, she'd reach out and try to touch it. Then the wolf turned, drifting down till his feet hit the floor, silent as it should be, facing her. Dora met his eyes.

"There is no danger here…" and then she had an epiphany. Crouching, she motioned the wolf forwards, whispering to it behind cupped hands. When she finished, the wolf stepped back, silently howling before running off towards the window, disappearing in a cloud of light.

"What was that? What did you do?" Reed asked from behind her.

Dora beamed. "I found my happy memory." And then she saw Dumbledore's face, and her grin dropped. _So maybe not the best split-second decision you've ever made…_


	4. Chapter 4

In a cabin in the woods, a lone wizard laid on a tattered blanket. It was ripped apart, barely able to be called a blanket at all, held together by threads – but still the wizard laid on it, staring at the wall he faced. It was wooden, but not rotten or cracking – no board in the cabin did. It was boarded three times over, with the only exist being a heavily barred trap-door in the ceiling. In it was a nook where the wizard's wand was stuck in, safe from the beast he became at night – from the wolf that came out to play when the moon was full.

However, the wizard was too weak to retrieve his wand. He was hungry, starving even – he should have already been back at his apartment in Manchester. Then came the beeping. The wizard breathed in a rattling breath, trying not to aggravate his injuries, before sitting up with a pained groan. The beeping persisted, and he knew it wouldn't stop. He needed to get up if the beeper was beeping…

Standing was harder.

But he got it done.

Because he needed to stop the beeping.

Why did he need to stop the beeping?

 _-beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep-_

Oh _yes_. Because it wouldn't stop beeping otherwise.

The wizard reached his arm up, human fingers slipping where werewolf claws couldn't, taking out his wand. Then, he tapped the trap-door. "Alohomora." It opened without protest, baring him to the early afternoon sun. The wizard winced, before reaching up and through the square, thankful for his height as he fumbled around, grabbing the ladder after a few seconds and pulling it down, bracing it in the cut-out squares within the flooring and climbing up and out. The wizard took a few minutes to recover after that, then pulled up the ladder and shut and locked the trap-door, pushing himself over to the handy slide he'd installed for days like these. Upon hitting the bottom, he smiled a bit. "Childish…"

Standing, the wizard made his way around to the origin of the beeping, and switched off the battery-powered alarm with just a press of a button. Then he read the time. 16:42. The man rubbed his aching jaw, sighing. "I'm late for my shift." He'd tried to tell his boss at the petrol station that he'd never make it – he was too ill. It would have been his last shift yesterday, but another colleague had just been fired for slacking, so he had to cover their shift. _So much for extra pay_. He was late on his rent, too.

Taking out the batteries of the clock, placing them in the plastic tub beside it to await next month, Remus Lupin apparated home to his flat, appearing in the bathroom and immediately staggering into the shower, turning on the water – which was cold as ever. He couldn't afford electricity or heating. To think that in less than three years' time, he would be riding the Hogwarts Express again, towards what would become _home_ once more, to take up a teaching position Dumbledore had given him that he would have no right to if the same man had not invited him to attend Hogwarts twenty seven- nineteen and a half-

Remus sighed.

Time travel was quite confusing, after all.

After the water had stopped running completely red, Remus started to actually wash, getting grime and wood dust, and stray bits of dried-on blood off himself. Then, he dried off with his red towel, which he used every full moon to disguise the blood should the landlord ever come calling. It wasn't as if Sirius could pop out of Azkaban to say hello – if he could, the news would be overtaken by Wanted posters, calling for Sirius Black to hand himself over, and for witches and wizards and muggles too, to be wary of the so-called mass-murderer, Sirius Black.

Remus sighed again, before forcing himself to exit the bathroom, aiming to get some clothes on again – only to be distracted by the glowing white wolf on his sofa-bed, sitting there without a care in the world. Then it opened its mouth.

" _Remus Lupin, I'm unaware if I am dreaming, or if this is reality, but if it is reality, if you've got some memories that cause you grief when thinking of the colour turquoise, turn them into happy thoughts and reply_."

Remus stared, before watching the wolf fade. "No, no, don't go," he murmured, before reaching back into the bathroom for his wand, frantic as he tried to summon a patronus. "Expecto Patronum, Expecto Patronum." He didn't even produce mist. The werewolf growled. "Stupid Lupin, happy memories, happy memories…what did she about happy thoughts?" He grabbed at his head, grasping at the short blonde strands there. "'If you've got some memories that cause you grief when thinking of the colour turquoise-'" his stomach lurched, before he let go of his own head, hands shaking as they lowered. "Teddy, she wants me to think of Teddy." Tears swelled in his eyes. _My son, I can't think of my son for a **patronus** …_

But unwillingly, he thought of him, of his Teddy, just a week old when he had died, when he had come back to this terrible existence, before all the pain and hardship had been washed away by war and by Dora. _God, Dora_ , he started to cry just thinking of her, lips curling up at the sides of his mouth, because she was _here_ , she _knew_ – she _remembered_. Remus stumbled over to his bed, grabbing random clothes and tugging them on shakily, paying no minds to his wounds as he thought of his wife and child. _Remember, remember them – oh, her smile, and his face._ Teddy had been so small, so fragile, so delicate – he'd held him, and taken his fingers as softly as he could, and Teddy had squeezed, and _Merlin, what a tight grip!_ Dora had been so proud, and later, when his hair had started changing _colour-_

Remus raised his wand.

* * *

"It is quite dangerous, you know," Dumbledore spoke cordially, unwrapping a lemon drop, "to send messages using that form of communication. You can never know when the intended recipient is in a muggle area or not."

Dora fidgeted in her seat. "Well, if it's any consolation, I don't think he'll respond – always was a little goody-two-shoes." The smile she offered up was weak, but Dumbledore still returned it.

"I only mean to warn you, my dear, for few know that Patronii can be used as a method of communication at all – I should know. I developed it." Dora flushed at not remembering such a key aspect. "But if it's being used between two lovers, I think I could permit it just this once."

Dora's hair flashed tomato red – but for once it wasn't in anger, the skin over her entire body turning the same shade of red as she coughed, spluttering.

"Sir, it's not like that!"

Dumbledore gave out a hearty chuckle, "I believe you yourself would beg to differ." Dora caught sight of her hands and flushed again, red changing to a more beetroot purple before she started panicking, trying to calm down. "Miss Tonks, it is quite alright, there is no shame in it."

Dora's cheeks were definitely warm a minute later, but she managed to get the colours in control – though her hair remained an embarrassed red. Dumbledore gave a fond smile to her, popping another lemon-drop into his mouth.

"I would assume your partner is not in school, then? Your patronus did not head towards any classes, to my knowledge."

Dora bit her lip, before shaking her head, feeling embarrassed that she felt embarrassed – Remus was her husband, in another time at least. She should feel embarrassed about admitting that. But this wasn't the same as announcing you were married, right in the stages of post-marital bliss. It was awkward, and even more awkward because there was a chance that he didn't even _remember-_

A patronus flew through the window behind Dumbledore's head, then _through_ his head, a wolf identical to her own stopping in front of her, mouth opening to speak.

" _I love you_." Then the wolf disappeared, and Dora was left looking at Dumbledore, a crazy grin on her face.

"He told me he loves me through a Patronus," she was bouncing on her seat. He remembered, _he remembers!_ "Did you hear it too? _Please_ say I didn't imagine that!" Then another wolf appeared, and Dumbledore seemed amused that they kept appearing through his head.

" _Marry me after you get into Auror Academy._ "

Her enthusiasm didn't disappear, unlike the patronus, and then Dumbledore was left smiling back at her happily.

"You will be agreeing, I assume?"

She looked at him like he was dumb, "Of _course_ – he even has the decency to wait until I'm into Auror Academy! Merlin, I love that man." She leaned forwards, resting her hands and chin on his desk, sighing contentedly.

"I'll put a good word in for you with Alastair Moody himself if you can pass your NEWT's as you should," Dumbledore promised, "Call it an early wedding gift, so long as I get an invitation."

Dora smiled at the Headmaster. "With who I'm marrying, if you weren't on the guest list, I'd wonder where my fiancé was and what the imposter had done with him."

"I am acquainted with this person, you say?" The bearded man asked, intrigued, twirling his wand in the end of his beard. Dora grinned impishly.

"You know every student who's ever sat under the Sorting Hat during your time as Headmaster – he was Gryffindor. That's all I'm saying until I get a clearer picture of how this is happening." Without her permission, her smile dropped, thoughts going to her parents. They'd never been happy that she'd married a werewolf, if only because they were being rounded up to join Voldemort, on her father's part. But now, with the age difference…how old was she bodily? Seventeen? Eighteen, nineteen when they got married? He'd be thirty-two… _what am I kidding, Mum and Dad are going to go ballistic… **again** …_

"Miss Tonks? Is something the matter?"

Dora redirected her attention to Dumbledore. "No, sir, just thinking on a few issues. My mum and dad might have gotten married when they were my age, but I'm their daughter – they aren't going to like the fact that I've got a long engagement, let alone that I've kept my partner from them for…well, basically our entire relationship." She frowned deeply, glancing at him, "We haven't told anyone, like…at all. At _all_." She slashed her hand through the air. "You're the first to find out…" she then added awkwardly. Dumbledore, however, as he always had been in peacetime, smiled and gave his blessing. Literally.

"You have my blessing, as both an old man and Supreme Mugwump. May your engagement be prosperous, and your life together fruitful."

Dora blushed lightly at his praise, by this time her skin back to normal. "Thank-you, Headmaster. You're surprisingly easy to talk to."

He shrugged, "Ah well, if you find me easy to trust in, I will gladly be your confident. I _will_ get an invitation to your wedding, however," his eyes sparkled, and Tonks, for a moment, forgot that this man was dead in her time – the life knocked out of him, his body broken and turning to ash within his coffin, as a wizard did when they died.

All she could do was smile.

* * *

"-Horntail, and they think it won't lay a clutch of eggs for another two years yet, but once it does, _boy_ , will it be even more terrifying." Charlie bit into his piece of toast viciously, tearing it apart, obviously still focused on the nesting habit of a temperamental Hungarian Horntail. Dora hummed, still admiring the new ring on her right ring finger – because, she had to face it, being _engaged?_ In _Hogwarts?_ Even if it was only to please everyone else, despite their lack of knowledge, and to have an excuse to have a bigger, more personal ceremony than a magistrate and two random witnesses, wearing a _Ring_ was a recipe for disaster. However, wearing a 'promise ring'? She wore so many accessories during Hogwarts anyway – including two thick rings, one on her thumb and another on her middle finger bearing the moving Weird Sisters logo – that it would hopefully go unnoticed.

Though if she kept staring at it, that wouldn't happen.

So instead of continuing to stare, Dora reached over for her spoon, intending to actually eat her cereal like a good girl, when there was a sudden clomp of feet, mobilised and efficient, with one louder, wooden clunk to go along with it. A _familiar_ wooden clunk. She ignored her spoon, hand dropping to the table as her eyes seeked out the source.

And there he was, leading half a dozen Aurors through the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw tables' gap. "Mad-Eye," she muttered, not blinking as she watched him, knowing his magic eye was rolling around. _They're probably here for Pettigrew,_ she thought, catching sight of Mad-Eye's eye stop somewhere in his peripheral – where Percy was sitting with a frown. _Definitely here for Wormtail…_

"Alastair," Dumbledore frowned, "What brings you here to Hogwarts?"

"Got a tip from a trusted," he snapped, "Perkins! Shut the damn doors to the hall!" Perkins rushed off back down the hall, stopping halfway, where his wand could reach, shutting them quickly before getting back to Moody. "Too slow."

By this time, students were getting confused – panicked. Shouts started to echo through the hall. Dora started damage control, standing and leaning over to younger students, calming them with a few words, getting out of her seat to some more rowdy boys, telling them to shut their traps if they wanted to find out what was going on. What she did seemed to prompt the prefects from each of the houses to get to work – and also catching the attention of Mad-Eye. _Oh shit, shit, shit, shit_ -

He was looking at her. Right at her. On reflex, Dora grinned, hair flashing what she knew Mad-Eye saw as the most _annoying_ colour in the world – bright silver, with bright streams of neon green and pink. He grimaced and she smirked at the win, before getting back to calming a first-year who seemed to be the calmest eleven year old in the world, but was really having a panic attack at all the fear suddenly gripping everyone.

A glance at Mad-Eye again a minute later saw him talking with all the teachers in a huddle, several looking quit ill – Snape had gone a sickly shade of white, tinged with green, but Dora bet that was from the possibility that Sirius was going to be let out of Azkaban if this went the way it was leading. Then Mad-Eye turned around and banged his staff – all residual noises faded, everyone silenced – quite literally, Dora found a second later, when trying to mutter something to Panic-Attack.

"In this hall, all the people with rats stand up – everyone else get your buttocks on the benches." Dora did as she was told, slipping in beside Panic-Attack, rubbing the top of his back like she had Teddy when he wouldn't settle on his third night. She looked around the hall. Surprisingly, more than just Percy stood – but not surprisingly, 'Scabbers' was currently trying to get to the main doors, Percy running after him as Mad-Eye stalked forwards, wand at the ready.

"Everyone on the benches! Feet up!" One of the Aurors shouted as they started fanning out – a helpful manoeuvre, if they weren't so slow.

Percy didn't pay as much attention as he probably should have. "Scabbers, come back, now is _not_ the time!" Moody shot off a spell, hitting Percy with what Dora recognised as a stunner before sending a different one at 'Scabbers' – but the rat changed course, coming under the Gryffindor table and heading back the ways, causing the Lions to let out shrieks and screams and shouts. Dora cursed: the silencing spell had lifted. _It's going to be pandemonium if they don't get that rat._ Without thinking of how it might look, Dora got up onto Hufflepuff table, waiting for the moment when Pettigrew would switch-

 _Now!_

"Stupefy!" She cast, red jet of light heading off at lightning speed – and hitting the rat, who went skidding, lifeless. Dora let out a breath, before another Auror summoned the rat, Mad-Eye making it back around, wand jabbing at the rat, which glowed blue before promptly enlarging, the Auror's skittering back, wands at the ready.

And then Peter Pettigrew was lying on the floor, unconscious and in full view of the world.

"It worked," Dora's shoulders sagged, before she watched Mad-Eye bind and levitate the man into the air.

"Thanks for your cooperation, kids," Mad-Eye said gruffly, before barking, "Perkins! Get the Weasley boy to the infirmary – and then all his relatives! Mibbs, you'll stand guard while Perkins retrieves them all – and by _all_ , Perkins, I mean every last Weasley who lives in the Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole!" Then Mad-Eye came past where Dora stood on the table, motionless. "Good shot, kid."

"I'm seventeen," Dora pointed out. Mad-Eye scrutinised her suddenly, stopping, before eyeing her hair, looking back to Dumbledore.

"This the one you recommended? Looks like the Weird Sisters and pink hair-dye had a kid – and they turned out to be Robin Hood."

Dora, unable to help herself, snorted, "Really? I would have called myself more of a punk rebel with questionable taste in piercings considering what career path I want."

Mad-Eye glanced back at her, grunting, "Dumbledore said you want to be an Auror – what you got up your sleeve, _kid?_ "

 _I have a feeling that 'kid' is the new 'Nymphadora'_ , Dora thought irately, before smiling charmingly and becoming a decrepit grandma, with transfigured clothes to match. "Oh, Mr Auror Sir, Dung stole my teapot and cursed it to bite muggles! Oh, do help me, please?" She even put on a granny voice. Then she became a man in a business suit, coffee stains on her fingers and a briefcase in hand. "Excuse me, I'm late, I really need to get going, so if you'd just _shove off_ out of the way…" She reversed the transfigurations, smirking at the grand awe from the general populace, moving her foot-

-and summarily slipping on the butter-dish and falling face-first into a bowl of Rice Krispies. She spluttered in the bowl, sitting up and hearing Mad-Eye's harsh chuckle.

"Full marks for Disguise and Concealment – zero for Stealth and Tracking."

Dora sat up, fully aware that she was sitting on someone's toast. "Hey! I managed to track Pettigrew all the way under the table _and_ figured out where and when he'd come out from underneath it!"

Mad-Eye shifted, "How'd you know his name is Pettigrew?"

Dora blinked, before trying to think of a cover story. _Of all the things to fuck up on_ , "Sirius Black is my mum's cousin, sir – he has pictures, hasn't he?" She pointed at him, feeling slightly sick as the memory came to mind. "Pettigrew even came up to my house once, to help Sirius. They babysat me when I was five." She made a face as she remembered more. "I don't think it ended well."

Mad-Eye's real eye twitched, and she knew nothing was going to go her way in this. "You're coming with me – got yourself involved, didn't you? Off the table now, sharpish now!" Dora took a single second, before scrambling between students, covered in breakfast food, to stand beside Moody as he levitated Pettigrew's body through the hall. As they walked down the hall, she saw Charlie gaping at her from where he sat at Hufflepuff table, red and gold among a sea of yellow and black, and she offered a cheeky wink that caused him to make a cross face before he stood. Mad-Eye stopped at the mini-blockade.

"Get out of the way," he growled.

"I'm a Weasley – that's my brother you took away," Charlie glared, before Fred and George at Gryffindor popped up.

"Us too!"

Mad-Eye gave the boys a single glance before looking at Perkins, who was still behind him, "Well what are you waiting for? Get them to the hospital wing!"

"Y-yes sir!" Perkins stuttered, before brushing past to take Charlie's shoulder. "C'mon now, you two as well!" He called over to the twins, who made their way down Gryffindor table towards the doors, where Perkins was already hurrying Charlie through – he seemed to have learned his lesson with the doors, which he'd also opened.

"He's a bit…slow, for the Auror Core," Dora broached lightly. Moody grunted.

"The Minister's been assigning me dunderhead trainees, assuring me that they'd be 'perfect' and 'useful', and would be the best. Useless muppets, if you ask me, won't be ready till ninety four at this rate – when are you available to start at the Academy?"

Dora stopped herself from grinning, "I got Dragon Pox in my OWL year, sir, so I'm behind – I won't graduate until the summer of ninety-two."

Moody grunted, "Shame. Maybe I'll ask to be assigned there before I'm permanently retired by our bonehead Minister of Magic – you'd be an interesting recruit, kid, to say the least."

Dora made a face.

 _Kid is **definitely** the new Nymphadora._


	5. Chapter 5

A month after the original arrest, the letters Remus sent her on a near-daily basis started containing anecdotes from Sirius, who had joined Remus in his apartment, fully informed on their mysterious time travelling escapade. The apartment the two were living in was basically a single room, in closer quarters than even Hogwarts dormitories forced you to be in, and while Dora could understand Remus' pain, she also saw the more humorous side to his tales of Sirius' antics. The animagus was on a strict regime from St Mungos, and the effects they had were…quite annoying, in Remus' opinion, who only saw relief at his new work in a library.

By this time though, December was around, and that meant Dora was home for Christmas – she hoped it meant she could meet with Remus, but that seemed even less likely now. After getting the report about Pettigrew and her involvement, Ted and Andromeda had nearly forced her into St Mungos to check her over – they hadn't wanted to take any chances that Pettigrew might have taken advantage of her as a child, during the multiple times he'd been around. Dora had nearly found herself agreeing, at that point, because she barely remembered him from her childhood, and she panicked – and then remembered that the Legillimens would have to sort through all her memories, including her future memories, to find any evidence of her being…well, in any case, Pettigrew was a legally labelled paedophile and that was enough for the Weasley's to be given free examinations for all seven of their children. Not that they needed it to be free anymore.

A plus side to the unfortunate circumstances they'd found themselves in was the donations. Because usually with a family that size, you would have wards to match – and they could detect the number of people in a home at any given time. It was why the acts of squatting and sneaking out without getting caught didn't exist in the Wizarding World – there just wasn't any point when the person in charge of the wards could check at any moment to see how many people, both registered and not, were home. If the Weasley's had the money, they'd have discovered that Pettigrew was an animagus the moment he entered their property, and that brought a terrible amount of sympathy.

Remus himself was angry about the fact that it hadn't all been dealt with last time around, but understood that her parents were being clingy. She wasn't an adult in their eyes – wouldn't until long after she graduated Hogwarts, and the Auror Academy even, if it went like last time. But that didn't mean she had to be happy about. She gave up on the twenty-first.

"Mum, Dad, I'm going to stay with a friend for a few days – I'll be back for Christmas Eve! Love you! Bye!" She called through the house, hurriedly opening the front door and getting out, shutting it behind her before speed-walking to the wardline.

The door opened, her father calling, "Nymphadora Tonks-"

"Bye Dad!" She got a few feet past the wardline and gripped her duffle tightly before apparating to the address Remus had given to her, appearing inside a shadowy room a few seconds later. "Hello?"

Then from a couch rose a bedraggled figure, black hair shorter than she'd ever seen it. "Hello? Who's that?"

"Sirius," Dora smiled before dropping her bag, leaping over to hug him tightly. He hugged her back confusedly, before glimpsing her hair.

"Oh! Nymphadora Tonks! Andi's girl! What are you doing here? I thought you weren't allowed outside casa de Tonks?" He rubbed his eyes, yawning before reaching for his wand, waving it and causing the candles around the room to light. It gave her a better picture of their shared living quarters – and she honestly wasn't impressed.

"Okay, I thought you lived in a tip – this is a broom closet," she looked to the bathroom door, which had opened to reveal Remus. For a moment she stared, taking him in – and then she was up, kissing him. He kissed her back, arms wrapping around her almost painfully tightly. Her hands gripped his face, his neck, his hair, practically scrambling to just hold him as a sob escaped her, head slipping away from his to rest against his chest.

"I am getting you out of this rabbit-hole of an apartment," she swore, voice muffled into his chest. And he just laughed.

"I know you will."

"I love you," she reached up, kissing him again. "I love you so much…"

"And I love you too, with all my heart," he murmured back, "and I would love to prove that to you, but unfortunately, we have three problems: number one is that right now, you are, as much as you may or may not want to admit it, seventeen, and I don't have the necessary precautionaries to prevent someone like Teddy happening. Number two is the fact that we're not married, and number three…"

"Sirius is right behind us," Dora finished for him, grinning slight before kissing him sweetly, then just settling contentedly into a hug. "Oh, and by the way, Dumbledore basically invited himself to our wedding."

"What?"

* * *

They later get a hotel, leaving Sirius in the rabbit-hole, and it's a night for them to relearn each other's bodies – Remus doesn't have as many scars, and Dora's yet to grow into her womanly curves. With Remus' wolf only a week from coming out, he's at the peak of his physical condition, without the terrible effects that would come in the following days leading up to full moon, and Dora is – well, bodily, she is a teenager. They go through a lot of boxes, and despite that Dora goes out to get a morning-after potion from a shop in the local wizarding community, just in case.

Later in the day, they check in on Sirius, who actually decks Remus after seeing the bruises up past the collar of her jacket, more than just peeking. "It's for Andi and Ted," Sirius promises, he himself actually encouraging them to go have a sex life. They – or rather, Dora – rents the hotel room for the following two nights, and they don't just have some more fun, but actually spend time together. Sex is nothing in the face of seeing Remus living in those conditions, and Dora wants to help, but Remus promises that Sirius is pulling his weight, using some of the money he'd gotten from the Ministry for being wrongly imprisoned, the 'some' being conditional as 'some' actually equalled to what was left behind after they took away the fine for being an illegal animagus. He still has about twenty thousand galleons in the pot though, so it'll definitely hold them over – Remus will be looking at properties around the country, so they can buy it out and make it a magical homestead. Dora was obviously quite happy for him, and rewarded him sufficiently.

But eventually the twenty-fourth does come, and Dora goes home to face her parents, who question the marks on her neck until Dora – and this was in front of their Christmas Eve party-goers, which included but not limited to her grandparents, four sets of great uncles, and those sets of four great uncles' families, going through three generations at the very least – exclaims, "I was with my boyfriend for three days straight, we had sex, _a lot_ , who else am I going to get bruises from? My secret girlfriend? Oh wait, I don't have one of those." Her punishment for that was to explain to all the questioning children, the youngest being six, the oldest being eleven, what sex was, without lying.

Luckily, she did get a reprieve after New Years – but only because she had homework to do, and only four days to do it. So only on the evening before she was meant to leave for Hogwarts did Dora see Remus again, quite unfortunately. Good for her though that it was the night before – she got to see Sirius in the early morning, when they signed out of the hotel, and he and Remus gave her the Christmas presents she should have received on Christmas, but didn't get because they lacked an owl. From Sirius, she got a worn but still useable Auror manual that he had dragged up from the depths of who knew where, so she could revise what she might have forgotten from her days in the Academy, as well as a fluffy black jumper with a bright, Hufflepuff yellow honey badger on the front.

From Remus, however, she got _so_ much more, getting seven gifts in total that she had already promised to return once she got back to Hogwarts where owl's awaited, ready to take off with January-deal owl order forms. The first gift was a necklace, a long silver chain with sparkling turquoise inlaid in a lower-case 't', in the front of a silver fob-watch – of which inside, instead of the time, told the moon cycle. The second gift was a matching silver and turquoise bangle, with an engraving of their initials on the inside and Teddy's full name – Edward Remus 'Teddy' Lupin. The third gift was a multi-coloured pillow, "For inspiration" – she'd hit him with it for that. The fourth was a set of books on improving duelling technique, and the fifth a practice dummy that fought back and shrunk down to the size of a Barbie. The sixth gift was a t-shirt with the Weird Sister logo, and the last gift, the seventh, was inside a black velvet box that he promised to open properly after she got into Auror Academy.

Dora could already tell the waiting was going to kill her.

On the train ride back to Hogwarts, however, something _else_ came to her attention that may kill her.

"When the hell did you get a boyfriend?!" Charlie raged, looking like he was about to burst. "That's not how it's supposed to work! You're supposed to get a crush, then come to me, then I'm supposed to go to them and threaten to beat them if they touch you!"

Dora and Kali raised eyebrows at the same time, much to their later dual revulsion. "Well, too late, Weasley – if we get hitched, you'll be my best man though, obvs." _Meaning: we are getting hitched, and you'd better be my best man, or else – I don't care if I have to drag you from Romania, you're being my best man, Charlie._ "So how was your Christmas?"

"Hectic," Charlie lost all his energy all of a sudden, "The house got done up over the holidays, so everyone's been camping on the first floor until their room is finished – and because of the new designs, everyone was fighting over rooms. Bill got last pick, obviously, because he's there the least, but then Ron and Ginny pointing at me too, saying I'd be off to train dragons soon."

Dora winced, "And your mum doesn't know about that career plan yet."

Charlie snorted, "Well, now she does – got in touch with McGonagall and everything, but I think she got mum tamed for now." He looked to Kali. "How about you, beautiful?"

Kali giggled, kissing him, "Well, I remember you coming around once or twice, handsome," Dora grimaced, before looking away as they started making out. Playing with her bangle, she looked out of the window, wondering what Remus was doing – so out of it that she didn't realise how close Kali was until she was grabbing her wrist, peering at the bangle.

"Ooh, who did you get this from? It's too precious for a family member – your secret lover, Tonks? I didn't know you were into rich men," Kali smirked, and Dora glared before tugging her wrist and the bangle out of her grasp, wiping it.

"Get your paws off it – it's none of your business." She scowled, pulling her sleeve down but immediately regretting it upon losing sight of the lacquered stones representing her lost son. Moving closer to the window, she brought up her knees to her chest, holding them there tightly as she looked out the window.

"Tonks, what's wrong?" Charlie questioned. "Tonks…"

"Just leave it, Charlie," Dora shook her head, glancing at him, and then Kali, who for once seemed…contrite. It was a strange, but nice change. "It's for someone my partner and I lost." She watched them both – watched how Charlie didn't get it.

Watched how Kali did.

The girl shifted in her seat, sliding over to sit beside her, switching bench to do. Her hand came up, nails manicured and proper, not like Dora's, hesitant before coming to rest on her arm.

"I'm sorry."

Dora nodded, swallowing. "He was tiny, just…" she brought her hands to her eyes, rubbing them furiously, angry at herself for being so upset. Teddy was gone – he didn't even exist anymore.

"Hey, it's okay…" Kali came closer, before wrapping her arms around her. Dora stilled, not knowing what to do, before Kali kissed her hair. _It's gone turquoise_ , she stared at the lock, fascinated. "Do you think he was like you?"

"Yeah," she said sullenly, brushing her hair back over her head, lengthening it so it wouldn't fall over her face. "He was."

"What…" Charlie didn't understand. Kali brushed a stray lock of turquoise behind her ear, leaning over to catch her eyes.

"Keep him alive in your memory – but don't forget that it's okay to move on, to keep going forwards. Don't forget, but don't…linger," Kali's eyes at that seemed to stop focusing on her, seeing something past her, and Dora wondered for a moment, before nodding and leaning over, hugging her tightly. For Dora, it was…something changed. She looked down at her bracelet and didn't…didn't feel the grief as much. It was still there – oh, everything holy, she didn't think it would ever fade – but maybe it was Kali offering something other than snide comments and an unhealthy attitude, but Dora felt a hell of a lot better about Teddy.

After they parted, Kali went back over to sitting with Charlie, the boy bemusedly looking between them, having witnessed what was most likely their first polite conversation since first year.

"So what did you do over the holidays," Dora questioned, "other than shack up with dragon-boy, obviously?"

Kali grinned. "Have you ever been to the Philippines?"


	6. Chapter 6

Remus came to the real-estate agent, "I like it – but what about the attic?"

The man glanced up, "You mean, by the attic, the loft-space rather than the attic rooms?"

"Yes," Remus glanced upwards himself, wondering whose grand idea it was to change the perfectly functional attic-space into a storage space and mediocre bedroom – he had to crouch to walk around properly not taking into account the slope on one side of the room – they'd put in a kind of roof balcony, too, that just wasted space.

"Well, it was against the better judgement of her husband, that was for sure – Lady Malfoy said that children could use it as a playroom. Lord Malfoy himself said that he'd be damned before letting a young child of his play near an open set of stairs while she was busy having tea on the roof." The realtor chuckled, not even realising the sharp look that the use of names had given him. "However, you did say you were looking for a family home – the next door townhouse is the last on today's agenda, owned by a subsidiary-"

"That's fine," Remus interrupted, "But just to check, did you say Malfoy? As in, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?" The realtor looked pleasantly surprised.

"You know them?"

"My partner is Lady Malfoy's niece," he replied, smiling slightly, "Would you happen to have their contact details?" But the realtor's face had changed, eyes narrowing before he made a face.

"I thought you were just some rich muggle, but you're not, are you? I bet you don't even have enough money to buy a holiday home – please show yourself out."

Remus frowned at the man's attitude. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard what I said – out." Remus raised an eyebrow at the man, who had his eyes shut, as if waiting for him to go.

"I'm actually looking to buy this place, at it's full price – I was just asking if you had their contact details. I've been trying to track down an address for some time now, and it's proven difficult – and I'm looking for a place that can hold three adults, plus guests and other family. I have a wife and a brother, of sorts, by the name of Sirius Black." And the realtor's face froze, as expected. "Would you like me to get him here? I'm sure he would be delighted to hear you repeat your previous comments about my general appeal."

The realtor was pale by now, hand shaking as he pushed his glasses up his nose, "M-my most _sincere_ of apologies, sir, I did not realise you were part of such a…delicate clientele. Lady Malfoy herself would have been here otherwise – family is a soft spot for her. She loves selling family homes herself. I shall fire-call her immediately on your behalf, Mr…"

"Lupin, though you might as well call me a friend of Sirius'," Remus answered amusedly, watching and then following as the man went into the parlour, taking floo powder from a small bag and getting down on his knees.

"Malfoy Manor!" And he dumped his head in through the flames, but not even Remus' supernatural hearing could understand their conversation. But then the realtor was coming out of the fireplace, trying to get out of the way…

For Lady Malfoy herself.

The witch swept out of the fireplace with a grace and elegance that Remus was only familiar with due to Sirius and James, brown and blonde hair pulled back, and up into a French twists, fringe left out to cut straight across her eyebrows. As would be expected for a Lady of a Noble Family, she wore expensive green robes over what looked to be a skirt and blouse, surprisingly informal for a meeting of strangers.

"Reginald, you may leave us," she instructed the realtor, who dashed out as quick as could be. Narcissa looked at Remus, wrinkling her nose before sitting on a nearby chaise lounge, staring at the wallpaper as if it had more value than he did. It probably did.

"Why did you need to contact me?"

Remus put his hands behind his back, in an effort to look more professional. "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place," he raised his chin, watching her as she continued to stare, not even still for a second. That was the kind of thing that had disappeared from Narcissa Malfoy in the war – that poise, that everlasting cool and _patience_.

"What do you need me for regarding Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place?"

Remus looked around, thinking of a way to incorporate his request with what he had learnt from her today. "Well, I hear you're into the property market. Sirius has already been and gone to the house – taken what he deemed important enough to take, destroyed what was dangerous enough to be destroyed. Most recently, a team of wizard have successfully removed all infestations and other dark creatures from the building. Other artefacts belonging to the House of Black, such as the Library, Family Tapestry, family portraits and items of import have either been eradicated from this existence, for the safety of any and all others that may have come across them, or restored. I know that the Family Tapestry has been completely restored, as have the positions of many a Black, including Andromeda."

Narcissa flinched. Remus felt as though he'd won a prize.

"And?" She asked, voice suddenly rough.

"Sirius is offering you the home, providing that _you_ gift us with one in return, that is of equal standing and value, or, you give us a decent home, with all furnishings and bills paid for, let's say five years, and we'll give you a way to save your son from what's going to happen in the next few years."

Narcissa's head snapped to face his, expression full with fear, "What do you mean, you'll give me a way to save my son?"

Remus came forward, sitting down opposite the Lady, "Well you see, I and another family member of yours have some insight to the plans of the so-called Lord Voldemort – you should have the sense to realise he isn't actually dead, Lady Malfoy – and as a Black, if my words cannot be believed, then the words 'multiple horcruxes' should." And hadn't that been a word that had terrified him too. Narcissa herself was already pale, but how fast her skin went grey was a testament to how horrible the reality was.

Remus had never been told by Harry what he had been looking for, that was true – but that didn't mean he didn't _know_. Dumbledore himself had approached Sirius and he, before the man had fallen through the Veil, telling them of Voldemort's route to immortality, and that Harry was one of his abominable horcruxes too. Their reaction had led Dumbledore to Obliviate them both of the knowledge – but now, in the past, it and every Obliviate cast upon him, which counted to three, were reversed. He remembered the conversation, the in-depth talk about possible trophies and locations and ways to eradicate them. Harry had only come up near the end, so it was very possible that Dumbledore had been expecting their reaction.

But in any case, horcruxes were worse than bad, and Narcissa knew it.

"What do I have to do to keep my son alive?"

* * *

"So, what? Draco goes to school in Durmstrang? How's that help?" Sirius questioned, a puzzled look on his face that looked quite odd upside down – he was sitting backwards on one of their sofas that had been the last finishing piece to their new townhouse home.

"Well, for one, we've rid Voldemort of the Malfoy coffers, and Harry will have one less enemy in school – as long as he doesn't go picking fights, things should go fine."

"Except with the Slytherins," Sirius put in.

"And what if Harry turns out Slytherin?" Remus replied easily, disappointed by Sirius' answering face. "If you don't want him to be Slytherin, then explain how awesome Gryffindor was when you were a kid yourself."

"I've tried, but the letters get sent back – I think he's got an anti-post ward." Sirius grumbled, but Remus was still confused.

"I never said to write to him – I said explain how awesome Gryffindor was when you were a kid, _yourself_. Visit Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Remus looked at his friend, who it seemed to dawn on as he explained. The dog turned onto his side, sliding off the touch and getting to his feet with a wide grin.

"I'm going to Privet Drive!" He ran towards the door, grabbing his leather jacket, only glancing back after a second's pause, "Wanna come?"

"No, I'm fine – I'm sure you'll bring him back here, anyway. Mention the two weeks a year to Petunia and she'll fold," Remus instructed to the grinning Sirius, who grabbed the keys to his motorbike and two helmets before bounding outside, slamming the door behind him. Remus smiled faintly, before going to the window, watching Sirius leave with a sense of giddiness. Harry would be coming to stay with them, hopefully – James son, _oh James, you'd be so proud of him_.

Up in the sky, he caught the sight of an owl – one that Sirius had to swerve to avoid, before Remus opened a window. A few seconds later it glided down to stop on the sill, Remus removing the letter upon catching sight of his wife's familiar handwriting scrawling his name. Opening it, he read it through.

 _My Remus,_

 _I got your letter, and Sirius' – the house looks huge. Have you picked our room out yet? Which one is it?_

 _Anyway though, I should get the boring stuff over and done with. Yes, I've finished my sixth year exams, and my NEWT Arithmancy. I did fine, though maybe this time my Potion wasn't as good – but whatever. The rest of my NEWT's are next year, and guess what – I GOT A LETTER FROM MAD-EYE. But it's both good and bad news. The good part is that he's offering me a summer internship. The bad part is that it's the ENTIRE SUMMER. I never got this last time around, so I don't know how good it's going to be, but anyway – Mad-Eye wrote to ME!_ _ **ME!**_ _I'm not sure if you get how big that is, but no doubt I'm going to be slaving away doing his paperwork or something, with like, an hour's worth of actual training._

 _I don't know how much time I'd get to spend with you, either. I miss you so much, Remus, I can hardly bear it. Hogsmeade visits aren't enough – and Dumbledore's always away at the Ministry, or busy with Fred and George when I try to ask for more time directly. I'm tempted to tell Mad-Eye to try again next year, just so I don't have to be the mopey intern missing her stupid boyfriend. I don't want to be that girl – no offence. You know you aren't my stupid boyfriend – you're my smart, sexy, werewolf husband._

At that, Remus couldn't help but snort. "You compliment me too much, dearest."

 _Anyway, off that, back to the house. My aunt Narcissa mailed me yesterday, just as a once-in-a-lifetime-correspondence, and asked me to see whether or not the repaired family tapestry was going to be hung in our new home or not. I didn't even know the tapestry HAD been repaired – is the magic still working? Am I on it? Are you? Is Teddy? Is it somewhere anyone can see? But ANYWAY, the HOUSE – how many rooms are there? Is there room for Harry and Sirius comfortably? Do Mum and Dad have their own special guest bedroom – you do know it has to be on the opposite side of the house to our room, and Sirius' if he's not settling down. And maybe Harry's too. He's ten, they're married. We don't want to scar him for life. Harry is coming to live with us, right? I'm not just assuming things that aren't to be assumed, right?_

 _Also, I wanted to ask you something – something important, for plans after we're married again and I'm a member of the Auror Core again. With the right for maternity leave. Yeah. Sorry if that scared you – I'm not saying now, just, maybe later? I don't know – I shouldn't be asking through a letter. We'll talk about it when I get home._

 _But anyway, Harry – is he coming to stay? Will you introduce me as your wife or not? These are need-to-know-before-everyone-else-knows things, Remus._

 _Love, your Dora xxxx_

 _P.S. I told my parents I'm staying with my partner for the summer, but they got away with having me for the first week, all to themselves. So sorry I forgot to say in the actual letter. xoxox_

Remus sighed at the end of her letter, lifting the paper to his face and kissing it lightly, shutting his eyes and letting his nose guide him – and under the rain and smell of owl, and ink, and parchment, he could smell his Dora, her dark flowery perfume and the sweet sugariness that he was almost certain came from that damn hair of hers, and that last, subtle scent that was just _Nymphadora Lupin_ , like salt and treacle, the smell of her skin in the night when he held her close.

Below on the windowsill, the owl hooted softly. Remus looked to it, lowering his hand. "Here, you rest. It'll take me time to form a response. I'll set you up beside our owl shutter – it's on the other side of the building, up a few flights," he spoke quietly, knowing how animal hearing often magnified even the softest of voices, making his way up to the balcony, where in one of the windows to the owl house, formerly 'the playroom', a shutter had been installed. Placing the owl on a post, he drew the blind sending in the most sunlight, tapping the food dish with his wand. It glowed softly as Remus left to go back downstairs, hoping that Dobby wouldn't overdo it with the bacon – he could already smell it sizzling. He was jealous.

Going back downstairs though, took a lot longer than it should have, as he stopped on just the floor below – his floor, to share with Dora, and…he glanced at the two extra bedrooms cozied around the family bathroom, opposite the master bedroom and between the upper-most lounge and what remained of the Black Library. Remus found himself by the one to the left, opening it up and looking into the more than large bedroom. It was painted a dark royal blue, with one of the walls holding a magical mural of stars on silver vines, which swayed in an invisible breeze. Narcissa said they glowed in the dark too – a perfect nightlight. Much was the same for the other room, but it was in dark purple, with three large, shining, golden suns on the ceiling, that orbited slowly throughout the night, disappearing during the day.

He shut the door, wincing as he heard one of the screws in the hinges tear through the wood. _I'll have to get that fixed._ Going towards the stairs, Remus couldn't help but imagine it – seeing Dora with another baby in her arms, another boy maybe. One who'd turn his hair all colours but the one he was born with, and who'd grow and grow and grow, who'd run to him whenever he saw him, screaming _"Daddy!"_

He stopped on the last step, fists balling. "Why did it have to be us? Why- why did we have to leave him behind?" He knew his questions would get no answers – but still, it infuriated him that no one answered. He felt his eyes sting harshly- he let the tears fall. _Why did we get sent back? For our own gain? So we can live the life we dreamed? So we can do it better?_ He heavily dropped onto the step above where he stood, head in his hands. "My son, my _son…_ "


	7. Chapter 7

"Harry?" Came an unfamiliar voice – from a man. Harry swallowed, before stumbling to his cupboard, reaching in and searching blindly for the glasses he'd somehow forgotten, only to knock something off that made a shattering sound as it hit the shelf below. He froze.

"Stupid boy-" Petunia started, before the man interrupted.

"No need for that – his glasses will be right as rain as soon as I get a hold of them." A firm but soft hand took his shoulder, gently drawing him away from the cupboard, a fuzzy arm raising, holding some sort of long dark tube – and then the glass was tinkling, and Petunia had gasped. "There. Good as new." He leant into the cupboard, taking a moment, then cake back out, pressing Harry's glasses into his hands. Harry fumbled to put them on, and when he did, found himself looking at a kind-faced man with black, shoulder-length hair streaked with an occasional strand of grey, and a soft grin, showing pearly white teeth. He wore black jeans, a dark blue button-up with some of the top buttons undone, black and white Converse All-Stars and a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up – it was actually really cool. In his hand, he held a long grey stick, with carvings barely visible underneath his grip of it.

"Who are you?" Harry questioned, not being able to help but feel as though he'd met this man before. The man smiled at him.

"I'm Sirius, Sirius Black – I'm your godfather, and I've come to explain some things you might not have known before. I would like to take you away from this place, as well, though unfortunately it wouldn't be for good." The man grimaced, "In the house of your aunt, you have to live for at least two weeks a year, to keep you, and your aunt and cousin, safe from people that may want to harm you."

Harry's brow furrowed, "Harm me?"

Sirius' hand sat on his shoulder again, heavier than before, as was his expression. "Harry, your parents were murdered by a terrorist – your mother fought with her sister publically, so people never expected you'd be sent to stay with her. They have no idea where you are, which is for the best, but your eleventh birthday is coming up." His hand squeezed, a smile flitting across his face, eyes appraising of his appearance, taking him in with a look of fondness that had Harry's heart beating fast – he'd only ever seen Petunia look at Dudley like that. "You know, you look so much like your dad – but those eyes, those are your mother's eyes. You look so much like them both. I'll explain more about everything, including them, before we leave, if you even want to leave – you do want to leave, right?"

Harry stared at him.

"Uh…yes. Yeah, please!" His fingers curled around the edge of his shirt, before Sirius smiled brightly and hugged him. Harry hugged back. He didn't know this man, but he was taking him away from Number Four…but then he remembered what he'd said before. "Why do I have to stay here for two weeks a year?"

"It's just until you're seventeen, odd number, I know – I promise I'll explain, but I need to talk logistics with your aunt. Why don't you get whatever stuff you want to take, and put it in a bag, yeah?"

Harry pulled back, nodding, before going to the kitchen to grab a Tesco bag from under the sink – but when he came back to the door into the hall, he paused, listening to them speak. Their words were harsh, and grating – and Petunia seemed scared.

"I don't want a freak in my house."

"He's not a freak, he's a wizard, and you'll do well to remember that so am I – and I'm _allowed_ to use magic outside of school. Now I really don't want to leave Harry here with you two weeks out of the year, but it's the absolute minimum, what with the blood wards. If you want to give them up though, that's fine with me – there are other ways to hide and protect Harry, they just aren't as powerful, or effective. If Voldemort tried to physically touch him, he wouldn't be able to. Lily's sacrifice lives in his very veins."

"I never wanted my son to know about _magic_ , or _wizards_."

"And he doesn't have to – next year, I'll bring him on the second week of August, and he'll stay fourteen nights under your roof, and _not_ in that cupboard. If I hear that he's being mistreated, I will call the muggle police on you for child endangerment and neglect."

"The boy won't be living with me anymore."

"Did I say that the child was _Harry?_ Your son is overweight and seemingly spoiled to a degree that his health is declining. Either that's child endangerment, or you're neglecting him enough that he provides his own food."

"No, no, don't, he's my _baby-_ "

"Then think twice when you have your darling nephew over next August – and Harry, I know you heard just about every word of that, so you can come out now." Harry flushed, before opening the door. Sirius was looking at him with an amused look. "You really thought you could get away with that?"

"What you said, about magic, and wizards…" Harry decided to change the subject, "Is that all real?"

"Very," Sirius promised, "Your mother was a witch, and your father a wizard – from a long line of wizards. But it's time to go. Get your things." He motioned to the cupboard, and Harry scampered forwards, crawling inside to get his clothes and some of the toys he'd hidden from Petunia, gathering them and placing them in the plastic bag, getting out. Sirius then raised the stick in his hand – his wand? – and waved it. Harry frowned at the lack of action, but Sirius just motioned to the cupboard. Harry looked, his eyes going wide at seeing it completely empty, his bed gone, and every last piece of evidence that he'd been there vanished – completely _gone_.

"Woah…how did you do that?"

"Vanishing charm, you'll learn it at Hogwarts – that's the school. Nearly every young witch and wizard in Britain attends, and then some. You'll get your letter in less than a month. Now, is that everything you want, because we can replace it all when we get home – your Uncle Moony will want to spoil you as much as I do, so you've no fear that you'll be lacking anything."

Harry's eyes widened, "I have another uncle?"

Sirius shook his head, "Not that kind of uncle – your dad, Remus and I were best friends in Hogwarts. If your parents hadn't died, you would have grown up calling me Uncle Sirius, or Uncle Padfoot."

"Padfoot? Moony?" He questioned, but all he got for that was a wink. "Where do you live?"

"Glasgow, in this lovely seven-story magical townhouse – you'll be on the fourth floor, with me. Remus and his wife live on the fifth. Now, let's get out of here before your aunt combusts." He held out a hand, which Harry took, feeling younger than he was as they left the house, waving goodbye to Petunia, who just watched them leave for a moment before shutting the door. Harry looked around for a car.

Instead, he found a motorbike, which Sirius led him to, then handed him a helmet from. Harry held it gingerly, Sirius letting go of his hand to put on his own, long hair more obvious with the skull-cap. He looked to Harry, smiling a touch at his confusion, before taking the helmet back and coming forward, settling it on his head and redoing the straps.

"My bike is magic, so it won't be as long a trip as you might think – but still, safety first and all. I've got a jacket for you in the seat. You'll be sitting behind me, and I'll be using a sticking charm to help you stay on, but still – keep a tight hold, yeah? Don't want the muggles getting any ideas." He winked, grinning, before turning back to it, getting the jacket as promised, handing it to him before swinging his leg over the bike, motioning for Harry to join him as he revved the engine. Harry tugged on the jacket, watching in fascination as it seemed to shrink to fit, before he got on behind Sirius, wrapping his arms around his torso.

"Comfortable?" Harry nodded, watching as Sirius tapped him with his wand. Shuffling, he saw it obvious that he couldn't move his butt from the seat. "You good?"

"Yeah. Can we go?"

Sirius chuckled, "Impatient little bugger." But he revved the bike again, by this time having drawn attention from several neighbours, who watch out their windows from behind lace curtains as Sirius started driving down the road, gaining speed. Harry could almost immediately feel the rush, breathing in sharply as they swerved round the corner sharply, before Sirius pressed a button.

And then, to Harry's amazement, the bike started to fly.

 _This is the best day ever._

* * *

"Daddy…" Dora approached her father slowly, who was in the middle of munching through an egg and bacon butty.

"Yes, Dora?" He replied distractedly, thumbing through his new book that he'd gotten for his birthday – How to Paint a Clockwork Train for Dummies.

"If I said I wanted you to meet someone, without telling Mum, what would you do?"

"I'd meet them, and glare if they kissed you in front of me," he replied, still distracted by his new book. Dora breathed in, running a hand through her, for today, shoulder-length hair, in it's now by-usual shade of pink.

"And if I told you they weren't exactly my own age?"

He stopped, looking at her properly, "Are we talking half his age plus seven, or half his age plus seven, but with some mathematical error?"

"Mathematical error," she replied, not losing his gaze. Ted sat back in his seat, shutting his book and placing his sandwich down. Dora took her queue, sitting opposite him. "He's a really nice guy, Dad."

"I'm sure he is – you wouldn't approach me about meeting them if you weren't completely sure he was treating you right," Ted nodded, but his face was set grimly. "How old?"

"Less than a year younger than Cousin Sirius." Ted made a face. "Dad, please-"

"No, its fine, I just…what happened to Charlie?"

"We were never involved, Dad, like, ever – Charlie literally only has his eyes for one person, and dragons." _Thank Circe that Kali didn't leave this time, Charlie's so happy_ , Dora couldn't help but smile softly at that. Last thing she'd heard, Kali was spending time with the Weasley's in their newly refurbished home after being kicked out by her own parents.

"Right…" Ted looked at his hands, deep in thought. Dora let him think, thanking Merlin she had the wisdom to approach him separately from her mum – last time had been a disaster, but if she had Dad in her corner this time, hopefully he could temper her mother. "Dora?"

"Yeah?"

"Does he love you?"

"More than I love him, I'm very sure," her lip twitched, because it was most likely true – the only thing in their relationship that had ever held them back was Remus' concern for her future, her status, from being with him, an old, aging werewolf. "You've met him before, actually."

"Really?" Ted glanced at her, frowning, before his eyes shifted, his posture changing, "Dora…your partner wouldn't happen to be a man called Remus Lupin?" Dora gave a weak grin, watching as her father leant forwards onto the table, staring furiously at the cover of his book. "Lupin's a good man, I know that – I also know he's a werewolf. Now that doesn't bother me, but…what happens when it gets out? You could potentially be sabotaging your career, and you've worked so hard…your mother would be the only one happy if you didn't get into the Academy."

"I've basically already got the place, Dad – I've been writing to Mad-Eye Moody. We met during the Pettigrew debacle, remember?" Ted made a face at the reminder, nodding. "We've been writing letters back and forth. I've been questioning him about how the Academy works, and if I could potentially lose my limbs – he's got ten galleons on me losing something small during training, like a finger, but not anything else, because Health and Safety these days is apparently huge on not damaging recruits." Ted gave a fleeting smile at that.

"It's good to hear you're in correspondence with someone you can ask questions. Are you going to tell your mother about Remus?"

"Later," Dora leant her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand, speaking casually, "I was hoping you'd back me up."

"I'd like to meet him again, first, in a public setting. Muggle. I'll make reservations for next Saturday – your mother wants to take you out on the Friday to Paris for this year's set of formal robes and event dresses." Dora groaned.

"Do I have to?"

Ted grinned, "I've already been fitted for both my tux and dress robes, so yes, you do – I'm not going to be the only one she managed to wrangle it out of."

"I don't even _go_ anywhere that needs them, it's a waste of time and money," she whined.

"Try telling that to your mother."

Dora groaned again, letting her head drop to the table, landing with a _thunk_. "I should order Remus to steal me away earlier."

"But then you'd leave your dad all on his own with the hell-demon," Ted said in a faux-hurt tone, picking up his cooler butty, biting into it. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

Dora just grumbled to the wood.


	8. Chapter 8

"Thank-you Dobby," Harry smiled at the house-elf, who blustered and grinned at the praise, "It was really good." He held out his plate, Dobby taking it and the silver, along with both Sirius and Remus', disappearing with a pop. Harry looked to his newfound uncle's. "House-elves are weird." According to Sirius they looked after the homes of their masters – Dobby had been swapped with some other elf who apparently didn't like Sirius very much, or rather at all.

"That they are, Harry," Remus agreed, wiping his mouth with his napkin, before placing it down on his empty placemat. "Now, I know you've been pestering Sirius non-stop this afternoon while I've been out, but do you have any other questions you think that I may be able to answer?"

Harry bit his tongue in thought, before remembering something Sirius said earlier. "Where's your wife?"

Remus raised an eyebrow, looking at Sirius, "You didn't think to let us decide whether or not to tell him?" Sirius shrugged.

"He's going to find out eventually, and it'll be easier if he knows someone at Hogwarts when he goes."

"Your wife's a teacher?" Harry questioned, but Remus shook his head, wishing Dora was here so he didn't have to explain alone.

"Dora and I…there are extenuating circumstances. I will tell you now, but before I do I'd ask you to keep an open mind," Harry nodded, prompting Remus to continue. "Magic is a powerful thing, in this world – and it has proven it can do a lot more, in recent times. Dora and I died, and then we came back – but the catch is that we didn't die in the here and now," he met Harry's eyes, "I come from the year nineteen ninety-eight, and so does Dora."

Harry's eyes widened, "Time travel's real?"

"Yes," he replied, "and in your third year of Hogwarts, if you've proven to be a capable student, and wish to take many more classes than your timetable can fit, your Head of House can petition to the Department of Mysteries to give you access to a time-turner, which you can use to travel back as many hours as you can spin the hourglass."

"It sounds impossible," Harry breathed, looking awed at the abilities magic could give them. Remus nodded.

"It does, but it is possible in this day and age – and in the future. Dora and I originally met in the summer of nineteen ninety-five, and later got married, and even had a son. When we came back, Dora contacted me to see if I had come back too – obviously I had. We reconnected, and while it may seem strange, with our age-gap right now…"

"Age-gap?" Harry frowned, "How old are you both?"

Sirius spoke at this point, "Your uncle and I are both thirty-one, or thereabouts. Right now, Dora's eighteen – and while the age of majority in the Wizarding World is seventeen, that doesn't mean people won't be terrible about it. Remus is telling you this in confidence, Harry, do you understand that?" He met his godson's eyes, unusually solemn. Harry seemed a little confused, but nodded.

"I won't tell anyone, but how can she be at Hogwarts next year then? You said you graduate at seventeen."

"In normal circumstances, yes," Remus spoke patiently, "But Dora was held back a year due to catching a rather fearsome magical malady – dragon pox. She missed her exams and had to be held back a year for the vast majority of her subjects. She'll be taking her seventh year and last set of Wizarding exams this year, her NEWT's, then applying to the Auror Academy, like she did last time around."

"So…" Harry's brow knitted, "my aunt is going to be in school with me?" Sirius and Remus shared a glance.

"Why don't you wait till you meet Dora before calling her aunty, Harry – for all you know, she might want to be considered your cousin. You're closer to her in age than Remus is, after all."

"Shut up, Padfoot," Remus said roughly, Sirius smirking at him from across the table before Harry spoke again.

"So her name's Dora Lupin?"

Sirius sniggered, "Well, that's what she'll be called once she and Remus get remarried in this time, but for now, she's called Nymphadora Tonks."

"Nymphadora?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"She preferred just being called Tonks, before we married," Remus expanded, "But I think she'd be okay with you calling her Dora. She asked about you a lot in her letters over the past few months, while Sirius forgot that he could actually physically visit your address. He was sending letters, but they never got through."

"Oh," Harry glanced to Sirius, who seemed sheepish at the reminder, before looking back to Remus, "So she cares too?"

Remus smiled, "Dora cares very much about your welfare, Harry – it was part of her job when she first met you, in the future, but with her closeness to both Sirius and I, her affections became more genuine over time. You never had a lot of time together, but from what she's told me, you were always friendly."

"You've seen me in the future?" Harry's eyes lit up, "What am I like?"

"Not much taller," Sirius chuckled under his breath, before speaking louder as Harry glared, "You were amazing Harry, just as you are now, and had so many amazing friends who would give their lives for you."

"Who? Can I meet them now? Do they know about magic right now too?"

"I believe only one may not," Remus interjected, "But from your stories, you only make acquaintances later in the school year. If you like though, I can get into contact with some other kids your age, and invite them around."

Sirius suddenly sat up, "Neville." Remus frowned.

"Neville?"

Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, "Alice's kid! Neville – born the day before Harry! Alice is Harry's godmother, after all."

"Really?" Harry's eyes were wide again, "Can I meet her?" Remus heart ached for a second, remembering what happened to the once-brilliant witch. Sirius, however, seemed ecstatic.

"Yes! I'll write to her right now – ask if she and Neville and Frank would want to come over." He stood, going to leave, but Remus put up a hand.

"Sirius, stop." His tone caused his friend to still.

"Moony? What's wrong?"

Remus breathed in, meeting Sirius' eyes. "After you were put into Azkaban, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Junior went on a rampage, trying to find Voldemort – Sirius, Alice and Frank are in St Mungos, in the long-term care ward. Neville has been living with Augusta Longbottom ever since."

Sirius expression said it all, and Remus couldn't even look at Harry.

"But…Alice…and Frank…they were….they were the best…how…how could they be in the long-term ward?" Sirius asked, features twisting painfully. "What did Bellatrix do, Remus?"

"I'm not say a single thing more about them in front of Harry," Remus shook his head, looking to his pseudo-nephew, who looked shaken. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but in the future, Neville was a loyal friend of yours. Timid, but with a great potential for magic. If you would like to write to him, you may use my study on the first floor." Harry nodded, expression dour, before he stood and left quickly, leaving Remus and the stewing Sirius.

"Why didn't you tell me before now?"

"I thought you didn't know," Remus replied, getting up from his seat so they could be on even standing. "You spent a week in St Mungos after Azkaban-"

"In a private room!" He hissed, "Reporters are still after a sodding interview today! Why didn't you tell me what happened to Alice? I thought she was the last of _them_ – just like you were the last of _us_ , before all of this time-travel malarkey."

Remus stood his ground, but the platform he held himself on was crumbling. "Sirius-"

"No!" Sirius came forward, pushing him back. "I thought- all my time in Azkaban, I thought you and me were the Marauders, the _last Marauders_ , Moony. Wormtail was a traitor, he didn't _get_ that privilege anymore. James was _dead_. And when I thought of Lily, I thought of _her_ friends – those sodding Banshees. Mary McDonald, Petey's girl, dead and buried," he snapped, bringing up his fingers to count, "Lily Evans, Lily _Potter_ , dead and buried; Marlene McKinnon," his expression wavered, "my Marley, dead and blown to fucking pieces. And Alice – Alice Prewett, Alice Longbottom, Frank's wife, mother of his baby boy, Harry's _godmother_. I thought she was like _you_ ," he pointed his finger in Remus' chest, "the _last Banshee_. And now you tell me my own sodding cousin did- what? What did she do, Moony? What the _hell_ did she do that has Alice the Custard Cream Longbottom in St Mungos?"

Remus could feel his guilt rising – of course Sirius hadn't known. He probably only found out during the time he was locked up in Grimmauld. Bellatrix would never have admitted to her baby cousin she tortured a Banshee into insanity – even in the future, she'd held a soft spot for Sirius. He'd seen that spell, the one she'd sent at him before he fell through the Veil. A jelly-legs. A _jelly-legs_. He'd never gotten over it – Sirius Black, downed by one of the most non-lethal spells on Bellatrix's repertoire. She'd never tell him she downed Alice the Custard Cream.

A choked laugh escaped him.

Alice the Custard Cream.

They'd started calling her that after her squib brother sent her a crate of them on April Fools in her second year. She'd eaten them all within a week, and no-one knew how she'd stomached them all. Alice the Custard Cream. He started to laugh hysterically, face hurting from how tense he was, before he stepped back to lean against the wall, face crumping.

"The Cruciatus Curse," he got out, voice croaky, "Both of them, until they became vegetables. Neville was hidden – he saw it all. Harry in the future said he remembered. I wonder how traumatised he was." Sirius was speechless, but Remus was on a roll now. "Harry said a lot of things about Neville, actually. Every time he talked about him, it was about something different. Do you know that his Uncle Algie pushed him off Blackpool Pier? And out a window? All in the effort to make him produce accidental magic. And in school, I remember – I _taught_ him. His worst fear was _Snape_ , of all things. What kind of things does a boy have to face to only be fearful of a man? I just- Alice's _son_. Remember how close she and Lily were? I wouldn't have been surprised if Alice had told Neville to call _us_ his uncles – we'd certainly be better role-models than his Uncle _Algie._ " Remus shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

He was unsurprised to find strands tangled in his fingers afterwards. Everything was so stressful lately, and full moon was going to last six entire days, starting tomorrow. He'd miss Dora coming home, even with the week she'd be spending with her parents.

Sirius saw the hair, reaching out to untangle it, brushing it to the floor as he sighed. "C'mon, mate, you look shattered. Let's get you to bed. I'll get Dobby to wake you up at three tomorrow, so you've got time to get to the cabin. I'll join you if I can get Dora over to look after Harry, but I don't think Padfoot will be there tonight."

Remus nodded wearily, rubbing the corner of his eye, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"Its fine, Moony, really – I should have known Bella would want revenge. Now let's get you to bed."

"Let's," he agreed.

* * *

Harry liked his new room. It was huge, and the walls were green, the floor a dark wood that was shiny and smooth enough that he could slide around on it on his socks. Despite that, his room was light and airy – his windows were huge. At night, it was dark – except it wasn't, because the wall that his bed was pressed up against glowed, an entire sea of stars sparkling in the gloom that reached up onto the ceiling, stretching out and becoming more and more spaced out until they disappeared. The stars helped him at night, when the room was too big, and he wanted to curl up in his wardrobe – the closest thing he could find to his cupboard.

Sirius said that the stars were actually right, in all the exact positions they needed to be. His first night in the townhouse, Sirius had stayed up with him, and they'd laid on his bed, with Sirius teaching him the constellations and names. Harry had asked why it was important – and Sirius said it wasn't, but it was something he wanted to teach him, because in some ways, it was part of his heritage. His grandmother, Dorea, before she married his grandfather, Charlus Potter, had been a Black – his father, James, had been cousin to Sirius' mother, making Sirius and Harry cousins too, somewhat.

Also, Astronomy was an actual class at Hogwarts, so it did help to learn.

Sirius said once his Aunt Dora got here, she'd probably tutor him in Arithmancy, just because she could. Apparently it was tradition for the female Black's to learn Arithmancy in its entirety as children, their brothers and other such young male relatives only learning basic maths, so that when they all went to Hogwarts, the girls could stay connected to their male relatives by teaching them what they hadn't been taught as kids – and Harry counted as a male relative, all technicalities aside, and as Dora was there, it fell on her to teach him. On hearing a description of the subject though, Harry thought it sounded a lot like maths, so was uneasy. Maths had been easy as a little kid, but with the way he'd had to deliberately fail tests and not learn anything so he didn't seem cleverer than Dudley, Harry admitted it was hard learning more things.

Sirius had been taught by his cousin Bellatrix – the one that had tortured his Aunt Alice to insanity. Harry hadn't completely disappeared when Remus had his mini breakdown, and Dobby, upon catching him near the end of his eavesdropping, had given him a short but firm lecture on the merits of prying. But in any case, he had heard, and decided that anyone he knew that was close to his family – like his godmother, and her husband, and the late Ms Marlene and Ms Mary – would be, at least internally, called Aunt and Uncle. Neville hadn't replied to his letter yet, so he couldn't be sure about whether his godbrother would yet be considered part of his immediate family.

Though, the same could be said about Aunty Dora, and he was going to meet her in a few hours and was already calling her Aunty Dora, both in his head and out loud.

Sighing, Harry, flipped through the photo-album that Sirius had pulled from nowhere yesterday afternoon after his check-up to St Mungos. They'd put him on a regime of disgusting potions, and did something to his 'magical core' that had him feeling lighter than air, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His fingers traced the moving visage of his mother, red hair flowing in the autumn breeze. Sirius said it had been taken a fortnight before they died. He stared at his mother, wishing he looked more like her than he did – he didn't just want to be told he looked like his dad, dammit! The healer had known his parents – had been in the year below. His mother had tutored her in Potions and Charms. " _You have her eyes, but you're like a carbon copy of your father._ "

"But I don't want to be a carbon copy," he muttered bitterly, wishing he looked like his mother – when all of a sudden he felt like he'd stuck his head in an electrical socket, a gasp escaping him as a sharp tingling ran across his scalp.

And then auburn hair, the same colour as his mother's, brushed across his nose. Harry's eyes widened, before he brought his hand up, tugging at it. _I turned my hair red._ He scrambled to get up, rushing over to his mirror, only to lose his balance, feeling as if he'd just stopped after spinning, feet slipping on the shiny wooden floor-panels, face hitting the ground with a sharp _crack_ , his nose suddenly burning. Letting out a slight cry, he sat up, one hand on the floor and the other going to his nose, feeling and then seeing blood as it dripped onto the floor.

Shakily standing, free hand going to steady himself on a nearby cabinet, he slowly walked over to his man-vanity, as Sirius called it. Sitting down on the stool in front of it, he stared for a moment. His hair – previously black as night and messy as hell – was now the same colour as his mothers, and the same consistency too – wavy, and slightly curly but not messy in the slightest. It sat on top of his head, small curls sticking up every so often while his fringe sat heavy on his forehead, as well as part of the hair on the very top of his head, both parts thicker than the rest. When he shifted, his hair shifted too – unlike his last hairstyle, which didn't move much even in a gale.

But his nose was still bleeding, and it was getting all over his button-down. Sirius had wanted to get him t-shirts, but Remus said that he might as well make it a normal thing for him to wear button-downs, as he'd be in Hogwarts for the next seven years, after all. Clearing his throat, he called for the eccentric house-elf his uncles both owned and hired.

"D'bby?"

He appeared with a pop, "Master Harry Potter- oh no! The Great Master Harry Potter is hurt! Dobby will help!" Then he disappeared, reappearing a few seconds later with a red towel that was steaming, heat wafting off it. Dobby climbed onto the vanity, tending to him quickly and carefully – though when Harry winced as he brushed what must have been a broken nose, Dobby looked about to cry.

"What did Master Harry Potter do to Master Harry Potter's hair, Master Harry Potter?" Dobby asked after the bleeding stopped, and all the droplets had been vanished, including the ones in his shirt. "Is Master Harry Potter doing magic when he isn't supposed to?" His eyes narrowed, but Harry made a noise of protest.

"It wub a' acc'dent," he said, voice clogged slightly. "Wanted to woob wike my mum. Saw my hair, 'den try ged do mirror." Dobby's eyes softened.

"Master Harry Potter must be more careful. Dobby will now set Master Harry Potter's nose." He clicked his fingers, and Harry's nose snapped back into place with a painful _snap_. He coughed into the red towel, spitting blood into it.

"Thanks Dobby – do you mind not telling Uncle Sirius about this? Or Uncle Remus? Or anyone?"

"Dobby will not tell, but Dobby _will_ if Master Harry Potter hurtes himself again." Then he popped away, all evidence of his broken nose gone, leaving Harry in front of the mirror, looking at his hair.

 _Now how do I change it back?_


	9. Chapter 9

Dora looked up at the house impressively upon making sure there were no muggles about that had seen her appear out of nowhere. Beside her, Ted looked impressed.

"I know he's sharing with Sirius, but it's still quite impressive."

"He's sharing with me too, and his godson as well, hopefully," Dora chirped, before leading her dad up to the gate, opening it and waiting till he was through to shut it. Then she went up to the door, fully expecting Sirius to be waiting for her inside. She wasn't supposed to come for another hour, at the very least, but with her dad coming to inspect the premises, she'd managed to bump that appointment up to two o'clock. Ringing the doorbell, she glanced at her father as they waited.

"And you're _sure_ mum won't miss you?"

Ted shook his head grimly, "She's gone on her annual visit to see Bellatrix in Azkaban – trust me, when she gets home, she won't even want me in the house, let alone with her. She prefers to deal with her grief alone."

Dora's face twisted at the reminder that her mother still thought there was good in her sister. Personally, if she ever saw that crazy bitch again, she'd kill her with her bare hands, if only to give her a measly muggle death. The door to the townhouse opened, prompting her to turn again.

In the doorway, stood a young boy, wearing unfamiliar rectangular frames, with a hat hiding all his hair. He looked pretty nervous, actually.

"Hello?" Dora smiled brilliantly upon recognising the voice.

"Wotcher – it's good to see you here, Harry. It's me, Dora." His eyes lit up, and he opened the door fully.

"Come on in." Dora smiled, stepping forward, already peering into the house, catching sight of a grand marble staircase in the middle of the entrance hall, leading up two different directions – only to trip over the entrance step, barely regaining her balance in time to stay upright. Though maybe that was because her dad had grabbed her flailing arm, quite used to her clumsiness. He smiled at Harry.

"Hello young man, I'm Ted, Dora's father."

Harry gave a nervous smile, nodding in greeting before hugging her unexpectedly. Dora hugged back after a second, beaming down at him.

"So, where're Sirius and Remus?"

Harry looked up at her at that, "Remus isn't back from his cabin yet. He's still got one more night to go." At that, Dora frowned, reaching a hand to her necklace, pulling it up and catching the watch, flipping it open to show the moon cycle. Disgruntled that he was right, she put it away, stepping out of their hug, but taking his hand, gripping it tightly. She wanted Harry to be more tactile than last time around – he always seemed to pull away from people, unless they were Sirius. Even Hermione didn't get to hug him for long, and don't get her started on Ginny…

"What about Siri?"

"Out," Harry replied, staring curiously at her hair, "He's doing something with a law firm – I don't know what." He glanced over at Ted. "Are you staying the night? I can get Dobby to sort out your guest bedroom-"

"Oh no, I'm fine, lad, though am I right in thinking I heard you say, _your_ guest bedroom?" He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Dora, who gave a sunny smile.

"C'mon pop, you think I won't have a special room for you and mum booked? I'm disappointed." Ted shook his head with a smile, before shutting the front door, eyeing the lock curiously as it shut on its own.

"Security measure," Harry put in. "All the doors leading outside do it, and all the windows – they can only be opened from the inside, unless you're keyed into the wards and have an actual key." He started walking towards a large door, pulling Dora with him as he opened it, revealing a tastefully decorated room, with comfy-looking sofas and a large book case and table on the other side of the room – and it was big enough for that. Dora hadn't realised how big the house actually was. "This is our main living area. The dining room is on the other side of the house, smaller than this room. The kitchen is on the other side of a wall. Dobby serves us food whenever we ask."

Dora hummed, not sure whether she liked what she saw or not anymore – it was pretty big, and that was starting to be a bit daunting. But maybe once she got used to it, and transferred a heap of her own stuff in to make it more like home…

"You shouldn't wear a hat indoors," Ted noted as they sat down. Harry flushed, but pulled the hat down further, letting go of her hand to do so. Dora started to have a niggling feeling.

"What did you do? Did you cut it or something?" Harry looked at her, terrified.

"I didn't cut it," he shook his head, "there's nothing wrong with it!"

"You're a terrible liar," Dora told him bluntly, before reaching over and snatching it off his head, to his protests, revealing a mop of auburn curls. Dora stared. "Woah, what happened to the black?"

Harry commiserated, "I don't know – I was just looking at my mum's picture, and I thought about how I wanted to look like her, and there was this tingling across my head…"

"Tingling?" Dora frowned, as did Ted. It sounded like metamorphic magic – but Harry wasn't a metamorphmagus. He would have shown a lot more than this, a lot earlier than this if he were a metamorphmagus. She looked to her dad. "Accidental magic?"

Ted hummed, leaning forward from his seat on the sofa opposite them, taking out his wand. "Harry, would you mind if I did a few checks? If it's accidental magic, then it could be reversed easily." Harry hesitated, before Dora put a hand on his arm.

"My dad's good with this stuff – when I was younger, when I got stuck on a transformation, he never knew whether it was just me, or if my accidental magic had tried and failed to do something."

Harry's brow furrowed, "Transformation?"

Dora flashed a quick grin, "Yeah, I'm a metamorphmagus," she scrunched up her face, transforming her nose into that of a ducks, then a pigs, snorting. Ted chuckled at her antics. But she let the magic go a few seconds later – turning her nose into animal noses was difficult due to the difference in physiology, so only human transformations stuck without effort.

"Could I be a metamorphmagus?"

Ted shook his head, "Unless someone did something to your magic at birth, it's highly unlikely – Dora's hair would change colour every hour, without her controlling it. I assure you, if you _are_ a metamorphmagus, then you're only a Partial."

"Partial?"

"You can only change one aspect of yourself," Dora explained. "The Black's have the metamorphmagus trait, yeah, but I'm the first full metamorphmagus. Most times, the Black's that have enough of the trait are Partials – my aunt, Narcissa, can change part of her hair blonde, but not anything else, or any other colour. But still," she nodded to his hair, "it could just be accidental magic."

Harry looked uncomfortable, but nodded, looking to Ted. "Okay."

Ted smiled, before waving his wand, causing a small stream of smoke to billow out, enveloping Harry in a light film. Dora watched as the smoke came to his hair – turning green a few seconds later, with an even darker green around his fringe. Her brow furrowed. If he was a Partial, it would have turned black.

"Green? What's green?"

Ted looked pleasantly surprised though, "It means that it's not any metamorphic magic, or accidental magic. It's fairy magic."

"Fairy magic?" Harry's nose scrunched up.

Ted explained easily, "Fairies in Britain are small, with little amounts of magic. They care for vanity, and affection from humans – it's not uncommon to use them as decorations, or as nightlights for children. They feed off magic. However, quite often, a particular child catches their attention, usually because they have green eyes or skin. The fairies like green – they see it as their colour, in terms of magic, and your eyes are particularly lovely, if I do say so myself. They're one of the only things in the world that can resist an Avada Kedavra – because its green magic, they absorb it. So when they find a child with some lovely green attribute, they give them a gift – usually it's a small deposit of fairy magic, to do with what the wish. Children are innocents, and so they let the use their magic for innocent purposes." He waved his wand, dispelling the smoke. "You said you wanted to look like your mother, yes?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, you don't have metamorphic magic, and accidental magic doesn't work in a way that can change physical attributes – it helps, protects. A lot of young children in the Wizarding World can levitate objects and summon things well before they can do much else – some children can even light candles, when their fear of the dark takes precedence." Ted motioned to his hair. "Fairy magic effects its surroundings, and the bearer. Colour changes are easy, and take little amounts of magic. Transfiguration takes more – but you have to want it, _really_ want it." He frowned lightly. "That's why fairies only give small amount of magic to children, because they want things. If their own magic can't do it, then the fairy magic tries. Most often, there just isn't enough power, and what they tried to use dissipates. It's strange that you used it now, and not when you were a baby."

"Can it be reversed?" Dora asked.

Ted shrugged awkwardly, "Well, I suppose, yes – but that's your actual hair now, not some transfiguration, and you'd need more fairy magic to reverse it." Harry made a face of distaste.

"Sirius is going to go ballistic."

Dora shook her head, "Nah, he won't – maybe be a bit miffed you look less like James, but I bet if you grew that mop out a bit and tied it back, you'd look enough like your mum to please him. And it would look awesome, like this." She changed her hair, copying the colour and consistency, then growing it to hit her shoulders, before pulling it up into a bun. "See? Cool."

Harry peered at her, and Dora took the chance to morph her face into his own, grinning at his slightly flummoxed expression, before he took it all in as a whole. A glance at Ted saw is contemplative face.

"I remember meeting Lily at her wedding," Ted murmured whimsically, "You _would_ look like her, I suppose, a bit. But not enough that people would realise, until your identity was pointed out. That scar of yours is pretty famous, after all. The Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry frowned, "What?"

Dora blinked. "Wait, don't you _know?_ Did those two not even _mention_ it?" Harry became even more confused, and Dora took the chance to change her face back to normal, giving herself a moderate amount of hair, in dark mahogany, streaked with her usual pink. "Circe, I leave them alone for six months and they forget how the world sees their own nephew." Dora shucked off her Doc Martins – given to her at Christmas rather than later, woohoo – and turned on the sofa, bringing her legs up to cross under her. "Harry, listen to me."

Harry looked to her, and Dora took the chance to put his hat on again, this time looser, with his fringe sticking out.

"When you were a baby, a war ended. The Dark Lord Voldemort wanted purebloods – people with no non-magical blood in their family trees – to rule the world, with muggles subjugated and those born with magic to muggle parents to be eradicated. Or something. I don't really know – the values are really confusing." Harry made a face. "Sorry. Anyway, Voldemort tried to rule the world, and he was rising to power, but then there was a prophecy created, about how you, Mr Harry James, would defeat him."

"Me?"

"Yup," Dora gave him an apologetic look, "Sorry, kid. But yeah, prophecy. So when Voldemort found out, he tried to track you down, but you were under a ward called the Fidelius-"

"Sirius told me about that," Harry interjected, looking angry, "Wormtail betrayed them, and sold them out, or something."

"Yeah, Pettigrew told Voldemort where you and your parents were hiding." Dora nodded grimly. "On Halloween of nineteen eighty-one, he came to your home. Your parents were both killed, but when he tried to kill _you_ , the spell rebounded, and his body was destroyed – not to say he was or is dead, at all. I'd bet a million galleons that he'll try coming after you, for revenge, once you're a bit older, maybe even find a way to get his body back." She paused, "Did Remus tell you?"

"Yeah," Harry glanced at Ted, "He said that he was working on some things."

Dora nodded, having heard some vague suggestions in their letters over the past couple of months that he was trying to do Harry's job for him.

"Yeah, well if he pulls it off, Voldemort won't have anyone behind him if he ever does rise. But yeah. Voldemort died, and you lived, and because the Wizarding World are a pack of sheep, they labelled you the Boy-Who-Lived, and blame you for Voldemort's death. Somehow, people know what you look like, which is actually kinda confusing – but yeah. You're sort of famous, which was apparently why Dumbledore sent you to live with Petunia, so you wouldn't grow up to be an arrogant tosser."

Harry seemed a bit miffed at the title, and Dora had to agree – while Harry was a little arrogant and angry in the future, he _had_ been going through teenage angst, some major guilt for the death of Cedric Diggory, her fellow Hufflepuff, and the fact that everyone was calling him a lying schizophrenic, which was…implausible, to say the least. He had the right, at least in the future. The Harry right now – the Harry he'd always be unless something drastically changed him – was a good wizard, and Dora had never heard of him boasting of his achievements, unless it was through quite amusing sarcasm.

"Dora, can I have a word outside?" Ted spoke up suddenly, and Dora looked over, only to see he had a Face on. Slowly, the blood drained from her face, the brown of her streaked hair going white. _Shit. I said that all in front of him_. To Harry, it was helpful, expected – but to her dad, who thought the worst of her secrets was a sexy older boyfriend, hearing how much she knew about Voldemort, and was involved with someone actively destroying his power bases…

Giving Harry a – fake – grin, she stood up, "Mind waiting a sec, kiddo?" He looked at Ted curiously, before shrugging. Dora walked towards the entrance hall, Ted following her and shutting the door behind him, raising his wand to set a silencing spell on the door – a good idea, if Harry tried to eavesdrop, she supposed.

"Nymphadora," he met her eyes, "what are you doing? How do you know so much? Just…you're not acting like the Dora I know, the teenager you are." He looked so disappointed. Dora looked to her hands, feeling terrible as her eyes became suspiciously wet.

"I'm sorry, Dad. There's so much you don't know…"

"Then _tell_ me," he took her upper arm, trying to meet her eyes. "My Nymph, my Dora, my little princess, I have no idea who you are anymore, and if you want- if you want me to be a part of your life, you need to tell me things."

Dora wiped her eyes, "Remember when I was little, before I went to Hogwarts, and we would watch the telly? And you forced me to watch Doctor Who, always saying that if wizards could invent time travel, we'd be the Gallifreyan High Council? Well, right now, Remus and I are creating the most almighty paradox in the universe. It's hard enough going through every day again, trying not to give away something vital-" She stopped herself, shaking her head, taking her dad's hands, meeting his eyes. "Dad, I'm not eighteen. I'm twenty-six years old, and I'm trying to stop the world from ending." Ted didn't react, and she suspected the worse. "Dad, please believe me, _please_. Sirius and Harry have accepted it just fine – we're not crazy."

Ted breathed in, gripping her hands tight. "You were with Remus in- in the future? He was good to you?"

Dora let out a choked laugh, "Dad, I love him, I love him so much – and in the future, we had so much, but there was a war going on. Voldemort had risen, and you were _dead_ , and I was trying to find Remus, but Bellatrix killed me and when I found Remus again, he told me he'd been killed by Dolohov-" Ted pulled her into his chest.

"You don't have to say anything, sweetheart, it's okay, I believe you." Dora silenced herself, letting him hold her. She could remember listening to the Wizarding Wireless, and the secret channel, and hearing that her daddy was dead- she hadn't coped, her mother broke. Only Remus, and his support, held them together. It was a tragedy that he couldn't take part in – he barely knew Ted, despite marrying his daughter. _It'll be different this time around_ , she promised herself, _Remus and Dad will know each other, and Dad will see his grandchild._

In Ted's arms, she stiffened.

"Dora?"

 _Dad will see his grandchild. O holy Hecate, I really- I really do want another baby_.

"Dora, what-" Dora hugged him, before stepping back, giving him a smile.

"Everything's fine, I just realised something really important – if Remus wasn't turning tonight, I'd already be going to talk to him."

Ted's eyes widened, "You're not pregnant, are you?"

Dora bit her lip, "Not yet, Dad, sorry. But you will get a grandkid in a few years, promise." He looked even more scared, at that.

 _I really need to talk to Remus for plans after getting into the Auror Core._


	10. Chapter 10

Neville had been waiting to reply.

It-

It was difficult though.

Gran watched the owl's with eyes better than hawks.

House elves were always cleaning their stands.

He didn't know it Gran knew he'd received a letter – she probably did. Probably wouldn't confront him, unless he tried sending a reply.

But-

But it _was_ difficult, terribly so, and not just to send it. To hear from _Harry Potter_ , someone he knew not only from stories, but from photo albums, and letters from Lily Potter to his mother – it was something he'd been waiting for, not that he knew he'd been waiting.

Questions like 'what if he realises I'm a loser' and 'what if he hates me' revolved in his head when he thought of his reply – his reply to the letter that went along the lines of _I heard we're godbrothers, and my uncle told me what happened to your mum. I wanted you to know that I'd like to get to know you, if that's what you'd like, because apparently we would have grown up together, sort of like brothers._ Neville had stared at the script, not paying attention to the rest that told him about Harry and how he'd only recently discovered magic existed. No.

He'd stared at that one line.

 _my uncle told me what happened to your mum_

What uncle was he talking about? Harry Potter's family were all dead, except his mother's family, and Lily's letters to his mother complaining about her, and worrying about her and cursing her for not attending her own sister's wedding and coming to see her own nephew when Lily had turned up to the hospital to see both little baby Rosalie – Rosalie Lillian Evans-Macmillan – who'd died the next day, and pudgy just-like-his-father Dudley Dursley. Dursley wasn't a wizarding name – Neville might be a loser, but he knew his magical families.

He eventually did write out a reply though.

And he sent it.

And then he got a reply.

And then he sent another, and then it was never-ending. He got letter after letter, and without realising, he did so many things – the cutlery danced, and the plants grew flowers in his presence, and the candles flickered on when he was afraid of the dark, and all of this, _all_ of it, in front of his Gran.

Only on getting an invitation to Harry's birthday dinner, did Gran finally confront him.

"I read all your mail before it comes in, boy, and your replies, too."

His stomach nearly revolted.

"You will go to this dinner, but you will only go if he comes to your party afterwards."

Neville didn't know what to do, but Gran kept talking.

"You will introduce him to the rest of your Circle Friends."

The Circle Friends – the other pureblood ten, eleven and twelve year old's who hated him, picked on him, bullied him.

"You will gain his trust, his loyalty."

But Harry was his _friend_.

"It is not in your interest to become his friend. He is nothing but a potential ally. Remember that. He is _nothing_."

But Harry wasn't nothing. Harry was his friend. Harry was his _godbrother_ – and Harry cared.

Gran kept speaking.

Neville, for once in his life, didn't listen to a single word she said. And when the thirty-first of July came, he packed a bag, a house-elf shrinking his trunk for him, and he left for the party – with no intention of ever coming back.

Because Gran was wrong, and Harry _cared._

* * *

Lying in their bed together was quickly becoming something Dora was going to miss at yet another year in Hogwarts. Every day since the day after her arrival, she'd been working for Moody, doing his paperwork at the Ministry, and after she was done, she'd come home in the early evening and have dinner. Then, she would teach Harry about Arithmancy, and once he started yawning, she would send him to bed – and then she'd go to bed herself and be with Remus.

Remus would hold her close to him, and in return she would splay across his body, probably squashing him in some weird places, but that was how they woke up – before they even went to sleep, they laid together in a special way. Remus would lay on his side, and Dora's knees would hook over his waist, her back twisted so she laid flat, pressed up tight against his chest, his arm her pillow, his cheek against her forehead. Remus was a furnace half of the month, so they only had a sheet, even during winter, but that first week after his transformation, he was almost sickly chill, and they piled cover after cover on top of them.

Today, there was less than a week before full moon, meaning there was only a sheet. Adjusting it with ease, she kissed Remus' neck, biting softly, wanting closeness, for their bodies to align in a way that wasn't sexual. But he growled, eyelids opening to amber, making Dora stop sharply, immediately baring her neck. He shuffled, eventually just pulling her further up, pressing his nose to her neck. It happened sometimes – when he was half-asleep, and his wolf close to coming out. But Moony always seemed to agree that she wasn't a threat, and that was usually when the fun began – fun that included tender, hand-shaped bruises on her wrists, and a smattering of deep purple hickeys below her right ear. Remus in the morning, for once, would be proud, though he wasn't as happy after his transformations, when they had yellowed and he 'had his conscience back'.

However, tonight, Moony seemed to sense that she hadn't meant to start anything that fun, and instead pressed hard, but tender kisses to her jugular, working his way up and over her jaw to her lips, which he claimed softly.

"Love you," she murmured, hand coming up to stroke the curve of his ear. He growled back, eyes still amber as he kissed her again, before moving her back to their comfy position, drawing the blanket up and around them both, spare are wrapping around her torso, holding her tightly and close. Dora shut her eyes. For the day after tomorrow was September first, Harry's first day of Hogwarts, Neville's first day of Hogwarts – _by Circe, that boy is brilliant, why would you scare him away Augusta?_ – and the start of yet another period of time where they survived on Hogsmeade visits and – hopefully, if she could ask, if Dumbledore let them – nights away.

 _Hopefully_.


	11. Chapter 11

The platform was as crowded as ever as the group stood around the two eleven year old's, trunks the only things keeping them from mowed over as they kept them in front of them. Remus had his arm around Tonks' waist, holding her loosely as she pressed a last kiss to Ted's cheek, before pushing him away so he could get to work before midday. Sirius was Padfoot, purely due to the reporters skulking around looking for Harry, whose curly auburn fringe hid his scar rather well now that a barber had tended to it, and successfully knocked the reporters off course in their attempts to find a black-haired, green-eyed boy.

"-bye Dad, now _go!_ " Dora laughed, pushing him playfully. Ted rolled his eyes before kissing her forehead one last time, disappearing into the crowd a second later. Harry was looking around, hand up by his collar playing with his shirt buttons, something Tonks knew that Neville did when he was nervous – adopting mannerisms much – and a glance at Neville saw the boy trying to make sure Hedwig didn't get banged, holding her cage in the middle of their little circle, eyes narrowed angrily at anyone who managed.

"Okay, boys, enough time has been wasted standing here. Let's get a compartment, then find your uncles again afterwards." Remus nodded, pressing a kiss to her hair – shoulder-length and a bright but muted shade of red – before letting her go. She grabbed her trunk, hauling it towards the train as the eleven year old's followed, Remus helping them get them into the train itself while Padfoot let himself be patted by a five year old a few paces away. Once inside the train, Dora made her way down the corridor, looking in each compartment until she finally found one with a lone, bushy-haired first year, tie blank but a book in her hands.

Opening the door, she smiled, "Wotcher, do you mind if we sit with you?" She moved slightly to let Harry and Neville be seen through the window. Hermione – and it was Hermione Jean Granger alright – looked up, before nodding politely. "Thanks." Coming inside, she lifted her trunk and put it on a rack, then grabbed Neville's and put it up with her own, and then again with Harry's. Wiping her hands, Dora pulled off her stripy grey jacket-blazer and threw it on her designated spot, then took the waiting jumpers from the boys and putting one on either bench.

Then she looked to the young girl. "We're going to say goodbye to family – there's enough room for two more people, 'kay? But that doesn't mean you have to let them in." The girl gave her a scrutinising look before nodding again, slowly, watching her as she shut the compartment door and got out of the nearest door, glancing at the clock. 10:42. "Heaps of time yet, c'mon." It turned out though that Remus had been following their progress down the train, as he was only a few feet away. "Love, it's going to be a sad day for you once I get on that train." She came forwards, arms looping around his neck, leaning back slightly. His hands came to rest casually around her waist, clasping at the small of her back.

"A sad day for both of us, dearest. I've come to understand that you'll be speaking with Dumbledore though," he replied pleasantly. Dora hummed, before shrugging.

"If I can catch him. I might just send a letter, but who knows when he'll get around to opening it. You _will_ write to me," she ordered, eyes hard, but Remus just chuckled before leaning over to kiss her. She reciprocated, ignoring the gasps from a nearby grandma. Then she heard what she _once_ thought as the most annoying voice in the entire universe.

"Nymphadora!"

Dora's lips left Remus', who pouted before she looked over to where Kali stood, followed by a very young Ginny Weasley. The blonde quickly and deftly pushed her out of Remus' arms, wrapping her own around her form.

"Kali, what brings you here?"

She pulled back, but kept Dora's hands. "Oh, I came with the Weasley's – I've been with Charlie all summer at their place. Their youngest boy, Ron, adorkable little chess master that he is, starts Hogwarts this year." She leant forwards, "Also, my baby sister Lilith, too, but I don't think she'll appreciate my presence here."

Remus raised an eyebrow, glancing over her shoulder, "I wouldn't be so sure, Miss Moon."

Kali gave him a confused look, before a small body banged into her own, arms wrapping around her. "Kali!" Kali's eyes widened.

"Lili? What-"

"Where have you been? You missed my birthday!" The girl, identical to Kali in everything but skin-tone, her own a lovely Indian brown in comparison to Kali's pale cream, but with the same golden blonde tumbling over her shoulders in the same accessory-null fashion. "Mother said you eloped with a blood traitor!"

Kali's face became pained, and Dora pulled Remus away from their little reunion, that now included Ginny as 'Lili' questioned whether she was her replacement. They found Harry and Neville after a few seconds, talking to Sirius in his human form, who was facing the trains and away from the reporters.

"-best House in the world. Both of you had Gryffindor parents, and you should do them proud," Sirius poked their chests, before Dora put in.

"What about Hufflepuff? We're the best too! We live next to the kitchens! Free food, on a daily basis – and hot chocolate on Friday!" Dora winked, before noting how some kids around them – both first years and actual little kids – started pay attention to what she said, some looking confused, some looking disgusted, some looking nervous. But they weren't her problem, to be quite honest, so she continued speaking to the boys. "But it doesn't matter in the end. Every House is amazing in its own way – in Hufflepuff, you get free food, yeah, but I know that in Slytherin, you get to practice potions in a secure setting, and in _Ravenclaw_ , there's a private library with books you won't find anywhere else in the world. I have no idea what goes on in Gryffindor though – but I do know that out of all Houses, those in Gryffindor make friends that last past Hogwarts, that'll _die_ for you if need be. Your parents would be proud of whatever House you got into, boys, _don't_ forget that – and the Sorting Hat will listen to you if you don't want to go into one House, _and_ if you do, too." She ruffled Neville's hair, because it was the closest head, and his nose wrinkled. "Though if Sirius is going to boast about Gryffindor, I promise you that I can make an absolutely _amazing_ argument for Hufflepuff. Best House in the universe, Hufflepuff."

Sirius snorted, "Hufflepuff is for duffers."

For that, Dora sent a stinging jinx at his face, "Argh! Why would you _do_ that?!"

Dora smirked, "Because Hufflepuff ain't for duffers, it's for the hard-working – which means, the majority of us aren't lazy jackasses, and that I actually managed to realise that a pap has been getting photos of our conversation for a good minute now. And they just got half a dozen of your face."

"What?!" Sirius looked around blindly, but Dora just laughed, making him stop and growl. "I hate you."

She let go of Remus, coming over and kissing his cheek, "Nah. You love me. See you at Christmas, mutt."

He grumbled, "Seeya, _Nymphadora_." Dora let it roll off her, before watching as Neville and Harry said goodbyes to their uncles, before getting on the train, waving goodbye and heading back to their compartment. Sirius had already turned into Padfoot by the time she'd turned back around to Remus, who she kissed solidly for what seemed to be forever, until the whistle blew.

"I've gotta go," she pulled away, breathing heavily. Remus nodded, kissing her again before pushing something into her pocket. "What's that?"

"I'm an impatient man, and you don't have a Weasley bodyguard anymore. Have fun. Look after Harry." Dora nodded, before kissing him swiftly, running for the train as it started up, getting in and turning, waving at him as he started to get lost in the crowd. She saw him wave back once before losing sight of him – and then she caught sight of Kali approached, who dodged forward, holding something up. Grabbing it through the open window as she went past, Dora nodded to her once-nemesis before shutting the window and dodging still-waving students, trying to find the compartment where the boys should be waiting.

While she did, she looked at what Kali had given her. It turned out to be an envelope. Opening it, she took out the letter, leaving what she thought must have been pictures inside as she opened the letter.

 _Nymphadora,_

 _Over the years, you and I have fought and scrapped, with our only common ground being my Charlie. I'd like to thank you, though I'll not tell you for what in fear of your reaction. But I'd like you to know something entirely different – I'm pregnant, for one, with twins, and Charlie and I are getting married. Don't tell anyone. Charlie is still going to be a dragon-handler, but he's been given a month to find suitable accommodation for the four of us. We'll be living in Romania full-time, and by Christmas, we'll be a proper family. Mrs Weasley is arranging for a few members of her family to come visit, but I fear that Ron, Fred, George and Percy will be left behind._

 _We haven't told anyone in Britain other than you about this all, including Mrs Weasley herself. Which is why I would ask you a favour – or rather, three. First, before you go home to your mystery suitor, I would ask you to tell the four boys that they will be uncles, through their brother Charlie. Second, is to look after Lilith. She may seem like a mess of anger and entitlement, which she is, at least partly, but she is also an eleven year old girl. I am writing this before I go to platform nine and three quarters, so I do not know whether I shall see her or not, but if I do, even if I do, please look after her. Before Charlie, she was all I had, and it was my job to protect her. I can't do that anymore – I fear I may never see her again after today._

 _My third and final request is that you be godmother to both my children._

 _I know that may sound preposterous, impossible, with all we have said and done in the name of our own satisfaction and egos, but if anything happened to me, I know that your influence would help rather than hinder. Though, I would appreciate it if you did not introduce them or influence their tastes in music, specifically referencing the Weird Sisters in this regard. I still do not understand to this day why they are considered good Wizarding musicians._

 _I have no idea how to end a letter, however, so I shall simply repeat my requests: tell the boys at Christmas, care for Lilith, and accept the title of godmother to two, for you shall be anyway, even if you refuse. I have left enough copies of my sonogram – taken in a muggle hospital, and for all their absurdness, this is one thing I will forever appreciate – for you to gift to the boys, keep one for yourself, and if Lilith does not completely detest me, one for her too._

 _Sincerely, Kali_

Dora, by this time, had stopped walking, reading, enraptured. Kali was pregnant. With Charlie's kid. _Kids._ Plural. And she was their godmother. "Holy Circe," she whispered, before taking out one of the sonograms, staring at the baby-shaped nugget. _She's being godmother to my kid_ , she promised herself, _if only for Charlie_.

Tucking everything away, she put the envelope in her back jean pocket, pulling the silky fabric of her dark floral button up over it and heading into her compartment – where, surprisingly, Lilith herself sat opposite Hermione, arguing fiercely.

"-muggle filth! Christmas isn't even our holiday! _You_ brought it in – you mudbloods and half-blood _scum_ in our community, destroying traditions and values that have been around for thousands of years!" Lilith seethed, before Hermione fought back hotly. Scandalised, Dora looked to Harry, whispering.

"What's going on?"

Harry swallowed, "Apparently her sister said to stick to you like glue, but then she came in and Hermione was talking about Houses, and Lilith insulted her for being swayed by books written by half-dead witches who hadn't been to Hogwarts in fifty years. It sort of escalated after that, and now they're complaining to each other about…" he glanced at them, "Everything, I think."

Dora pressed her lips together, then stepped in and shut the door behind her loudly, breaking them from their discussion. Lilith looked relieved.

"Nymphadora, please evacuate the filth from your compartment." Hermione recoiled opposite, and Dora narrowed her eyes before pointing a finger at the haughty eleven year old.

"First of all, you're only here because Kali asked me to look after you. Second, this isn't my compartment – it's her compartment, and we asked to be here. Third, if I hear you saying anything derogatory about anyone for being part of another culture much larger and much more _dangerous_ than our own, I will not hesitate to pull you over my knee for acting like a three year old, copying everything their parents say, whether it's nice or not." Lilith blanched.

"But-"

"No. If you want to complain, then complain to someone who won't punch you in the face for every word you say. Now I heard something about traditions, and values, and I will tell you right here and now, that there is no point in saying someone is dissolving your culture when you refuse to teach them what that culture is." She glared. "Hermione Granger is one of the smartest eleven year old's you will ever meet – if there is _anyone_ who would be able to absorb everything you want to teach her, it _will_ be her."

"But they don't _want_ to learn," Lilith objected, Hermione snapping a retort before Dora could.

"Who said that? I'll have you know that I've been reading non-stop, trying to learn how to be a witch."

Lilith rolled her eyes, "You can't learn _how_ to be a witch, you _are_ a witch."

"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned, making Lilith roll her eyes once more.

"I _mean_ that you are a witch. You're not a hag, or a giant, or a troll, you're a _witch_."

"What about being a human being?"

Lilith glared, "Anything can be a human being – a vampire is a human being, and so is a ghoul, and they aren't even _corporeal_. Calling yourself a human being is like saying 'I have a spine'. Millions of things have spines, but not all of them are witches." Hermione's eyes lit up, and Dora could recognise what was about to happen from the time spent in Grimmauld Place with her, with all the muggleborn's questions and interrogations about the properties and limits of her metamorphmagus powers, so edged in quickly.

"See Lili? This is what you need to tell her. Basic things that you know, she doesn't. She won't know _anything_ you do in the same context." Lilith made a pained, confused face, before she looked to Hermione.

"You seriously have no idea?"

"Well, Nymphadora seems to believe so," Hermione spoke, giving a slight frown. Lilith made a noise of terrible comprehension.

"You're worse than babies!"

"Hey, don't get like that now," Dora reprimanded her, "Hermione, and all muggleborns know things that you do, they just have different names and ways of doing things. To her, memorising her family tree would sound preposterous, but to us, it's something you learn as a young child."

"You memorise your _entire_ family tree?" Hermione looked positively baffled. "But _why?_ "

"To know you're not marrying your cousin, for example," Lilith grumbled. "The wizarding population is small. With the exception of some weird families, you aren't allowed to marry anyone's descendant within ten generations, sometimes even twelve. It's why we're dying out – we're too interbred to consider a lot of options, and by marrying a muggleborn, you lose Family Magic."

"What's family magic?" Harry questioned. Lilith looked at him in disgust.

"Family Magic, capital letters – I could _hear_ the lower case. Each magical family has a Family Magic, and it's secret, except in some obvious cases. The Black's have extremely strong transformative magic, example 'A' right in front of us." She motioned to Dora, to who Hermione peered at curiously. Dora decided to entertain, going through a myriad of different changes, shocking her. Lilith pffted. "We get the picture. Another more obvious Family Magic is the Weasley Magic – they have large families. Incredibly fertile, unlike the Potter's – unless one married a Weasley, which, by the way, hasn't happened in over five hundred years, then Harry Potter is destined for a one-child family."

Said Potter looked heartbroken at the prospect. "But what if I don't want to marry a Weasley?"

Lilith's head turned sharply. "What? _You're_ Harry Potter? But why don't you have the right hair – you and you're family have been black-haired for your _entire bloodline!_ " She looked horrified, "It's happened again – your mother's muggle blood overrode the Family Magic." Lilith looked stricken, hand going to her mouth. Dora inwardly swore, before going over to the near-crying girl, crouching in front of her.

"Lilith, it's not what you think – Lili, the fairies visited Harry as a child, his mother didn't override the Family Magic," she soothed, taking the girls hands and holding them tightly. "Harry here just wanted to look more like his dear old mum – fairy magic doesn't affect blood, Lili. His kid will have black hair, unless he marries a Weasley, and even then it would be touch and go with their battling Family Magics. Don't worry, the Potter Magics aren't going to disappear any time soon."

Lilith swallowed, before shutting her eyes, obviously trying to get a hold of her breathing. A glance at Neville saw the boy breathing oddly as well – only Hermione and Harry weren't affected. Dora supposed she herself should be like the two purebloods as well, but she'd known the truth. Looking back to Lilith saw the girl had calmed down.

"Better now?" Lilith nodded, and Dora nodded back, coming to sit beside her, moving her jacket onto the rack above to make room, hand falling upon the pocket of her shirt, where the thing Remus had slipped in her pocket had been stashed. Taking it out, she was momentarily content, and then she actually saw what it was and swore.

"Fuck, _yes!_ " She grinned, opening the ringbox and grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she took out the silver band, inlaid with diamonds, slipping it on her ring-finger. "Utter bastard, 'impatient man' my arse." Beaming, she slipped the box back in her shirt pocket, sitting down, showing Harry the ring. He peered at it, before smiling.

"Good on Uncle Remus – it's almost as pretty as you, Aunty Dora," he joked, getting a cuff over the ear for his remark before Neville leant forwards to see.

"You're getting married?" Hermione questioned, sounding disturbed. Dora glanced over at her.

"Long engagement. We're getting hitched when I'm nineteen. We've been unofficially engaged for over a year now." Lilith frowned.

"But you won't be eligible for a Ministry-sanctioned official – they only officiate over ceremonies with a member of the partnership being over twenty-one."

Harry snorted, "Uncle Remus is like, thirty-one right now. I think they'll get a judge."

"But- but- that's a _huge_ age gap," Hermione protested quietly. Dora shrugged.

"We don't give a fuck. He loves me, I love him – my parents are lucky I'm not going to elope right out of Hogwarts, unlike Kali."

"What do you mean, Kali _eloped?_ She did not," Lilith protested vehemently. Dora glanced at her.

"Your sister is engaged to my best friend, set to marry with random witnesses somewhere in Romania. Did she tell you about…?" Dora waggled her eyebrows, and at that, Lili seemed to get the message.

"Yes, she did. She said you would have something to give me later, in private."

"I do," Dora agreed, "You'll be amazed, but probably freaked out. Anyway though," she looked to Hermione, "Actual official introduction between the two of us. Wotcher, I'm Tonks. My first name is Nymphadora, but if you use it, I'll do something disastrous to publically embarrass you. Tonks is fine, at least until I get married, then it'll be Lupin. But no telling anyone else that," she wagged her finger at both of the girls, "I also get called Dora, but only by family. Neville's one of the few exceptions. Got that?"

Hermione nodded, before sitting up straight, "My name's Hermione, Hermione Granger, but somehow you already knew that." Dora shrugged.

"I know a lot of random people without them knowing who I am. I assume you all said hello to each other, yeah?" She looked around, getting nods. "Great. So now what?"


	12. Chapter 12

Out in the middle of nowhere, a family of three lived in a grand home, in the middle of a seemingly never-ending forest. But all it took to turn three to two was a walk in the forest – in which forest, laid a treacherous ravine, that the Lord of the family would slip and fall into, forever ridding the world of the man that was Lucius Malfoy. His son would go on to enrol in Durmstrang Institute under a pseudonym, and his wife, under a matching identity, would flawlessly take over a Russian chain of housing companies – their lives would go on, and they would never return to Britain.

And so Harry Potter, instead of facing Draco Malfoy, stood on the opposite side of the field from the Ice Queen – Daphne Greengrass.

* * *

"Are you a Weasley?" A cold voice questioned. Harry turned, blinking at the sight of the pretty girl. Her hair was white blonde, pulling up into a neat bun on the top of her head, a black ribbon tied around it, and her skin was almost the same shade. Icy violet eyes met his own emerald green, and Harry swallowed nervously as she stared balefully, taking him in, top to bottom. "You do not share any similarities to your relatives, if so."

"I'm- I'm not a Weasley," Harry stuttered, "I'm Harry – Harry Potter."

"Really…" she continued to stare, before stepping forwards, holding out her hand delicately. Remembering what lessons he'd had with Sirius on propriety, Harry put a hand behind his back, taking her hand lightly, kissing it politely. "Daphne of the Noble House Greengrass."

"Harry, of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House Potter," he parroted, before releasing her hand. She nodded sharply.

"Delightful. What Hogwarts House do you expect to be Borrowed into?" Harry tried not to show his confusion at her terminology as he answered.

"Uh, well, my godfather wants me to go into Gryffindor – but my Aunty said I shouldn't count any of the others out, either. Each have their own benefits." At that, a smirk curved on the girls face.

"My father agrees with that view, though my mother said that if I did not get Sorted into either Ravenclaw or Slytherin, I would not receive my monthly allowance."

"That doesn't sound fair," Harry frowned, "My Aunty says that Hufflepuff is for hard workers, and there's nothing wrong with that – and both my parents were Gryffindor."

"Both my mother and father were Ravenclaw," the girl stated, "and while I do understand your point, I would wish to follow them, or at least get into Slytherin. It is the House of Connections – before Professor Snape took over Potions, Horace Slughorn held together a certain network, where both he and his favourites would benefit. Unfortunately, Professor Snape does not have the same friends in high places, but that isn't to say that being allied with older students and providing for them as proof of your abilities during your Hogwarts years, as Slytherin's have always done, does not have its merits."

Harry fidgeted at her words, glancing at the rest of their peers as they gasped at the sight of a group of ghosts, who he looked away from in an attempt to be rude to Daphne, looking back at her. "So, you want to help yourself, for the future, by being Slytherin?"

"Houses influence you, Potter," Daphne's tone brooked no argument. "During your time at Hogwarts, you will learn many things, but what another House can teach you will not be one. As the Boy-Who-Lived, you already have a certain standing, both politically and socially – in Slytherin, you would learn how it is both a gift and a curse. In a House such as Hufflepuff, it will not mean nearly as much as it would in any of the remaining Houses." The doors opened again as she finished, revealing McGonagall, holding a stool which upon sat a ragged hat. "I hope to finish our conversation at a later date," Daphne nodded at him cordially, already slipping away. Harry barely heard her though, listening to McGonagall as she told them to line up.

Standing beside Neville, when he first entered the Great Hall, he was amazed – candles floated in mid-air, and in the ceiling above, he could see the sky as it was through the windows. Hundreds of students sat at four different tables, wearing the colours of each of the four Houses. At the table decked in yellow, on the far left, it wasn't hard for Harry to pick out Aunty Dora, who flashed him a grin and a thumbs up, mouthing _Good luck_. Harry gave a nervous grin back, before looking forward, to the staff table.

In the middle sat an old man, with a long white beard, and a set of half-moon glasses sitting on his long nose. It could only be the Headmaster, Dumbledore. Beside him was an empty chair that Harry supposed was for McGonagall, and a woman wearing a white hat who he supposed was the school nurse; and then there was a small man, who must have been the Charms Professor – Filius Flitwick, according to Uncle Remus. Then next to Flitwick sat a witch with short grey hair, and a hawk-like face, and then next to her, was a plain-faced man with a purple turban. Quirrell, Aunty Dora had said. And then next to him…

"Neville, is that-"

"Snape," Neville whispered back, already cowering slightly as the professor's gaze swept over them. Harry looked in the completely opposite direction, in reaction, not looking at the dour man, and instead noting the pretty, dark-skinned woman next to the Headmaster, wearing dark brown robes with golden swirls patterning its entirety. Beside her, sat a straight-laced woman, in a conservative robe with a high collar that reminded Harry of some of the portraits that had survived the purging of Sirius' old house, and then beside her was a man with only one arm – he was quite a sight. Then again, to his left, and Harry's right, sat Hagrid, who gave him a big thumbs up, smiling at who he probably thought was just some random first year. Remus said Harry had been a good friend of Hagrid's in the other timeline – and that they had technically met before, when Hagrid brought him from Godrics Hollow to Privet Drive, on Sirius' flying motorbike.

Next to Hagrid, there were only three more chair – a short, dumpy woman with a dirty witches hat and short, greying curls, an empty seat, and then a woman who looked like she belonged in a circus, in a tent waving her hands around a glass ball, saying she could see into the future, wearing an overly-large, round set of glasses and a bazillion necklaces over a long fraying shawl. Harry shuddered slightly, touching his rectangular frames, not missing his old glasses one bit.

In front of the table, McGonagall set down the stool, and the hat, taking a scroll from her robe-pocket – but instead of opening it and reading it out, she looked to the hat. Harry trained his eyes on it, wondering what was so special about a hat, when all of a sudden it started to move, brim ripping open, a deep, songful voice escaping.

" _Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuff's are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _If you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folk use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!_ "

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. From behind him, Harry heard a boy mutter about a Fred telling him they had to wrestle a troll, and found his lip twitching. _Fighting a troll seems a bit hard for us ickle first years._

Professor McGonagall then stepped forward holding the roll of parchment, unravelling it and eyeing them all as they quietened down.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, face pale as milk as she put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, before sitting down. There was a moment's pause, then-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat, and Harry clapped for her alongside Hufflepuff, who cheered as Hannah went to sit down. Harry saw a ghost of a rather large monk waving merrily at her, before McGonagall called out the next name.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah. Harry noted that Dora seemed ecstatic to get some of the first students.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The blue and bronze-dressed table clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table decked in red and gold exploded with cheers; Harry could see a set of twin's catcalling, and wondered if they were the Weasley's Daphne had meant – their hair certainly match his.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot, though as he scrutinised them further as another boy got sorted into Hufflepuff, he saw past the general distaste and anger the were putting off – some even looked generally happy, and it was odd he noticed it now, but there were a lot of pretty girls there too. 'Bulstrode, Millicent' was an unfortunate exception to the rule. He turned his attention back to the Sorting.

Sometimes, Harry soon noticed, the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnegan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy standing beside Harry before he got called up, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Harry perked up, watching the girl he might tentatively call 'friend' run to the stool, jamming the hat eagerly on her head. Like with Seamus Finnegan, Hermione was on there for a long time – longer, even, and her face shifting and screwing up, as if she were arguing with the hat. But eventually the Hat called out her House, "SLYTHERIN!" and Harry had to frown, as Slytherin's claps came at a very subdued rate. A glance at Lillian saw her looking at Hermione with a slightly wary expression, and when he caught her eye, her face set, and Harry had a feeling that when she was called up, the Hat would be calling out 'SLYTHERIN!', too.

"Greengrass, Daphne!" Harry watched as the confident girl strode forwards, expression blank, face like stone – a face that twisted in anger as she struggled to get on the stool. Harry hadn't realised until then how short she was, and pitied her as she instead stood in front of it, fists clenched and arms crossed as she put the hat on her head. Luckily, she only had to stand there a few seconds before the hat once again called out "SLYTHERIN!"

The next few, Harry watched go up then go to their tables, only half paying attention until McGonagall called out, "Longbottom, Neville."

Beside him, Neville stared, terrified, and Harry nudged him forward, hoping his godbrother would pull some courage together as he looked back at him fearfully. Harry motioned forwards encouragingly, watching as Neville came up, sitting on the seat and putting the hat on his head. Harry watched him closely, silent.

And then the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry whooped, cheering and clapping, grinning, and then laughing as Neville ran off with the sorting hat still on his head. The boy brought it back with a chagrined expression, before going to his new House table. Harry felt a pang though, thinking about it – what if he didn't get into Gryffindor? Maybe he could go to Slytherin, with Hermione and Lili, or Hufflepuff with Aunty Dora. Ravenclaw wouldn't take him though, for sure. He was pretty stupid sometimes.

Soon though, his name was being called out, a short while after Lili was sorted into Slytherin with Hermione and Daphne. Stepping forward as everyone tried to locate him, he sat down gingerly, putting the hat on his head as everyone stared. _Why do I have to be the stupid Boy-Who-Lived?_

" _I believe that if you were not the Boy-Who-Lived, it would by young Neville Longbottom_ ," the Hat spoke casually into his ear, " _and I believe that boy has gone through far too much already._ "

 _Yeah_ , Harry agreed, fidgeting, _so what House do I go into?_

" _Oh, let's see…ah, not a bad mind, no, no…and courage, oh yes, so much courage – and such devotion too, to those you would now call family. Why, such a well-rounded person, the only thing you lack is ambition._ "

Ambition meant Slytherin – so if he didn't have ambition, he couldn't be Slytherin, could he?

" _Oh, you could be in Slytherin, if you so choose,_ " the Hat argued, _"and you would grow as a person there, but I am not sure you would be happy, despite your new friends there. Miss Granger is driven, and Miss Moon comes from a family of mixed backgrounds – you will not be Sorted into Slytherin today, Mr Potter_." Harry's heart dropped. So where, then? Gryffindor? Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw, even? " _No, not Ravenclaw, no, no…and you have too much courage as it is, and too many Gryffindor role-models to learn what you would there, either. I say –_ HUFFLEPUFF!"

Cheers rang out from the yellow-clad House, and Harry felt his heart flutter, a grin settling on his face before he got off the stool, giving the hat to McGonagall before hurrying over to where the Badgers cheered for him, Dora hugging him tightly when he sat down in the free space beside her, whispering into his hair.

"That's my nephew. Good job." Harry gave her a grin, before McGonagall called for silence and he turned to watch the rest of the Sorting, feeling as though he were in Cloud Nine.


	13. Chapter 13

Remus clinked his beer against Sirius'. "To Hufflepuff."

Sirius grinned, "To Harry." The two drank, before Sirius spoke again. "I was betting so much on Gryffindor."

"Which reminds me," Remus smirked, "you owe me ten galleons."

"You never agreed to it properly," he shot back. Remus shrugged.

"You bet ten galleons on Gryffindor, with me as your foe. Cough up, Padfoot."

Sirius grumbled, before waving him off, "Later. We're in the muggle world, after all." His eyes drifted around the bar. "Think I could pick up a bird here?" He eyed a woman over in the restaurant part. The two of them had decided to take a break from everything after seeing Dora, Harry and Neville off, spending their time touring Europe the muggle way. Remus was going back to Britain periodically for full moons and to deal with the reports from the lawyers they had against Augusta Longbottom and her brother, Algernon Croaker for their treatment of Neville.

Right now though they were in a hotel in Greece, near the Turkish border – Remus thought the town was 'Κήποι', but he could have been reading the sign wrong. For all he knew, they were in the next one up the road – it had a similar spelling, but Remus was pretty sure that they were in the right place. If the map was to be trusted, that was.

"I don't know, can you?" Remus replied, sipping his beer. Sirius suddenly turned in his seat, actively appraising her. "Padfoot, you can't even speak Greek."

Sirius pointed at her, "If you bothered to look, you'll see that she's got a Sunday Times." Remus looked – and as Sirius said, there was an English newspaper sticking out of her white leather bag, which she was going through and therefore hadn't shut. She looked to be paying a bill, and Remus grimaced upon seeing her speaking to the waiter, who started to flag down a different waitress. "I'm going to go help her out," Sirius got up before Remus could stop him. The werewolf quickly put down his beer, following his friend before he did something to get himself arrested.

"Something wrong?" The Black questioned the woman, who glanced up, looking him up and down quickly. He glanced at the waiter, who held up her bill, tapping it and saying something in Greek. Sirius made a face, obviously not understanding, but motioned for it. The waiter handed it over and Sirius read it, frowning lightly before digging through his pocket, taking out his wallet and handing over a couple of drachma bills. The waiter tallied them up before writing a short figure on the receipt, putting the bills in his pocket before taking out the appropriate change, which Sirius took.

"You didn't have to do that," the woman spoke nervously. Sirius shrugged.

"I was raised against helping random strangers. My rebellion was to spend as much of my parents money on pretty girls as possible," he held up his beer, motioning to the bar. "Want to join us for a celebratory drink? Our nephew just got accepted into a House in his private school."

The girl – and now that they were closer, Remus could see that she was that, a girl – bit her lip before smiling weakly. "What are you drinking?"

Sirius looked at his bottle. "No clue, but it's alright," he offered, and she took, sipping curiously. A funny look crossed her face, before she handed it back, standing. "So?"

"Just one beer, and you're paying."

"I think that would be acceptable," Remus put in before Sirius could make some smart-alec comment, tugging him in the direction of the bar, sitting back down on his stool. "I'm Remus," he held out his hand as Sirius waved down the bartender. She shook his hand, before taking the beer quickly offered.

"Melania Prewett."

Sirius, who had been drinking his beer, choked, "Wait, what? Prewett? As in, like, Alice and Molly and Gideon and Fabian and Ignatius Prewett?" Melania seemed surprised.

"How do you know them? Ignatius is my father."

Sirius' face was taken over by self-disgust, "I hit on my cousin. I hit on my _cousin_." His head hit the bar-top, Melania blinking in surprise. "Of all the people I could have ever hit on in Greece, it had to be the only person I'm related to," he moaned miserably.

"We're related?"

Remus chuckled wryly, "Melania, may I introduce your older cousin, Sirius Orion Black. His father's sister is your mother."

Melania smiled, happily surprised, looking to Sirius. "Well it's lovely to meet you, Sirius."

Sirius just groaned.

"When will I find someone to shag that I'm not related to, Moony?"

"Never."

"You're a dick."

Remus sipped his beer. "Yup."

* * *

"Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures."

Harry scrunched up his nose, looking at his timetable. "I don't have the last one."

"You won't," Dora assured him, "Not until third year at the very least. You'll get to pick more subjects then."

"Like Arithmancy?" He questioned.

"Yeah, like Arithmancy – with my help, you'll ace it," she ruffled his hair, causing him to scowl. "So, made any friends yet?"

Harry shrugged, looking over at his fellow first-years where they made breakfast, "I don't know. Zachariah was all uppity our first night, saying things."

Dora's brow furrowed, "What kind of things? Do I need to go beat him up?"

"No!" Harry's eyes went wide, "No, I'm fine, I can look after myself."

Dora pressed her lips together, not really believing him. But she had to go – double Potions, first thing. Ugh. And she still had to get her bag. "Find me after dinner tonight. I've gotta go. Have a good day," she got up, pressing a quick kiss to his head before hurrying away. Once out of the entrance hall, she went down the flight of stairs towards her common room and took the familiar route, wincing as the bell rang. _No time and an entire bag to pack._ It wasn't a good start to her year. They were lucky enough to have the weekend to sort out the basics, like bedtimes, and general rules, as well as the buddy system. Dora, unfortunately, wasn't a Buddy.

No.

Because she was too busy being _Head Girl._

It had baffled her that she'd been given the position the day before, but apparently the seventh year girl in Ravenclaw had declined, and Dumbledore pointed her out – she was kind of perfect for the position, with a NEWT already in the bag, and her very apparent care for Harry. Professor Sprout had put in that she'd always helped out the younger years, too, and while the duties that came along with it all cramped her style, the weight of responsibility made her feel…important. Useful. She was supposed to support her fellow students, throughout the entire school, be their voice in Staff Meetings – which was cool, because she got to sit in on _Staff Meetings_ – and be someone to look up to.

Dora could do that.

She could be cool.

Currently, her hair was streaked Slytherin green through blonde, and she planned to switch it up next week – Gryffindor red – and then again the week after to Ravenclaw blue, and the week after to Hufflepuff yellow. While she'd probably end up getting bored and just switch every few days, or even hours on a slow day, Dora _was_ going to do it – though obviously she wouldn't wear another House's colours when attending a Quidditch match, for obvious reasons.

Actually getting to her trunk to pack took more time than she had to spare, what with Snape being the on-time teacher that he was. After getting her stuff together, she scarpered and tripped not only once, but three times, before she even got out of the common room – and then, when she actually got to class, she realised that she'd left behind half her things. Groaning internally, she slowly entered the class, eyes turning to her.

"Sorry I'm late, professor," she winced, before joining the nearest table of students who were already brewing. The class was small this year – only eight, but still enough for two tables. Snape sneered at her.

"Fifteen points from Hufflepuff, for your inability to organise yourself on time – and another ten for disrupting the class." Dora grimaced but nodded, looking to see what they were going to be studying. Upon seeing her neighbour's book turned to the Golpalott's Third Law potion, she got out her book, flipping to the page, giving herself a paper-cut. By implementing a trick she learnt later in life using her powers though, it closed up and allowed her to wipe the trace amount of blood on her shirt – which she realised was white a second later, as the blood left a mark. Grumbling, she hurried to start her potion, tugging off the clunky rings on her fingers after retrieving her ingredients, but leaving both her promise ring and engagement ring. Without her other jewellery, and with her sleeves rolled up, the ends of her limbs were bare – and subsequently, so were her rings, and her silver and turquoise bangle.

Slightly uncomfortable at the exposure, after how long she'd kept it a secret, Dora tried to busy herself, standing close to her desk, hair shooting back into her skull until only a short Mohawk remained, edge rimmed with green. But she must have been doing something to draw attention, because pretty soon Snape was hovering, watching her.

"I was not aware that _bracelets_ were conductive to potion-making," he said in a scathing tone, before holding out his hand, "You may retrieve it at the end of the day." Inside, Dora's stomach rolled and curled, but she put her knife down, slipping the bangle off and handing it over, swallowing. The chain around her neck was a comfort she tried not to grab at, as the bangle was taken from her person.

She only half-expected Snape to leave it be.

"' _RL &NT_'," he pronounced slowly, and Dora got back to her potion, trying to ignore him. "I had no idea that you consorted with werewolves, Miss Tonks."

"Nothing wrong with werewolves," she put in, voice forcibly chipper.

"Indeed…" Snape fell silent, and Dora chanced a glance, swallowing at seeing his narrowed eyes. Her stomach dropped. _He's trying to figure out who Edward Lupin is_. Looking back to her recipe, she did as instructed, focusing on her potion. A few seconds later, he walked away, bangle nowhere in sight.

* * *

"Well _done_ , Miss Tonks!" Flitwick praised, clapping. "And your first try, too!"

Dora flashed him a grin, "I've been practicing ahead."

"I look forward to seeing more," he smiled, before turning to another seventh year – Hugh Higgins-Bishop, seventeen year old Ravenclaw. Practicing the charm again, Dora sat back in her chair, only to feel a tap on her shoulder. She leant back in her chair, head upside down as she looked to the next tier of desks. Amanda Addams, not yet seventeen, Ravenclaw again, and looking real nervous, was leaning over.

"Uh, Tonks, can I talk to you later? When class ends?"

Dora raised her eyebrows, which probably looked weird upside down, "Sure, 'manda. What about?"

"It's…it's about a younger student. My sister's best friend."

Dora frowned, "Is this 'cause I'm Head Girl?" Amanda nodded. "Well, I already agreed. I have a free next."

"I have Transfiguration."

"If it takes too long I'll accompany you back, you won't get in trouble."

Amanda nodded, after a moment, "Okay. Thanks." Dora shrugged before putting both legs of her chair on the ground again, practising her spellwork.

Later, when Charms ended, she met Amanda outside the class, waiting until everyone had filed out and were well down the corridor before speaking.

"So, who, what, how and where?"

Amanda fidgeted, "My sister, Abbie, Abigail – her best friend is Jeromy Stretton, the chaser on Ravenclaw Quidditch team. Well, uh, Abbie was scared for him – his girlfriend is always putting him down, and I know it's not that big, but I noticed he's been getting really withdrawn and everything. Roger Davies was complaining really loudly about how he's gotten so much worse over the summer in the common room…I'm sorry, this was stupid, I shouldn't believe what Abbie says." She turned away, but Dora reached out, hand taking her shoulder.

"No, it's good you came to me – chaser you said? Third year?" Amanda nodded, and Dora let go of her shoulder. "I'll do some scouting, see what I can find out before I approach either of them – Jeromy or Abbie," she clarified, before Amanda nodded.

"I'm going to be late."

Professor Flitwick's voice interrupted Dora's offer for accompaniment. "Give this to Professor McGonagall, Miss Addams." Amanda took the slip or parchment he held out, nodding to both of them before leaving. The professor looked to Dora, "Taking your new duties seriously, I see?"

Dora flushed slightly, shrugging awkwardly. "I would have done it anyway." But still, she fiddled with her shiny new badge that she'd attached to the pocket of her blouse.

Flitwick chuckled sadly, before giving a slight grin, leaning forwards, "Congratulations, by the way," he whispered, motioning pointedly to her ring. Dora grinned at that.

"Thanks professor. You want to secure an invite like Professor Dumbledore has?"

"I'm honoured, though I wouldn't be offended if you chose not to. Have you got a class next?"

"Free period."

Flitwick hummed, "Would you be adverse to helping me with marking some summer homework?" He looked at her curiously, but Dora snorted.

"Sorry Professor, but I'm still me – I ain't going to mark anything any time soon." She shook her head, having flashbacks to the mountains of paperwork she'd filled out for Moody that summer.

Flitwick looked chagrined, lip twitching, "Of course. A badge doesn't make a person, after all. Say, I wouldn't happen to know the lucky man?" He raised an eyebrow as Dora smirked.

"Take a guess," she challenged. Flitwick hummed, smiling, before questioning her.

"Charlie Weasley?"

"Taken by Kali Moon."

"His brother Bill!" Dora actually laughed at that.

"Try again."

Flitwick laughed squeakily, before shaking his head. "Oh, I don't know. For all I know, you're marrying Remus Lupin." He chuckled at her surprised expression, before winking. "Good day, Miss Tonks." He waved slightly, before going back into his classroom, leaving Dora alone in the hall, wondering for the first time, if she and Remus had been the only ones to come back.


	14. Chapter 14

On Halloween, the troll broke in, and Dora immediately saw the flaw in Dumbledore's plan to send students to their common rooms. Standing on the bench, she directed her wand at the entrance doors, shutting them. People looked to her, confused, before she used a non-verbal silencing spell, looking to Dumbledore.

"We need to do a headcount before everyone goes rushing off to four different points in the castle. And also, Slytherin's and Hufflepuff's live underground. The troll is supposed to be in the dungeons."

Dumbledore grimaced at his lapse in judgement, "Thank-you, Miss Tonks." He looked to the student body. "A powerful spell – one that was probably quite taxing to cast."

Dora faked a looked of awkwardness. "I didn't really notice." She was really bolstering her own reputation this time around. She sort of felt guilty, even, as she had a plus seven years worth of extra time. Dumbledore motioned around, before leaving his seat, followed by all the teachers with the exception of Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector. Understanding that she was being left in charge – most likely with her fellow Head Boy, Kenneth McLeod – Dora spoke up again. "Everyone get with the rest of your year group, youngest near the staff table, oldest towards the doors. Seventh year prefects will do a check for missing students then report back to the nearest Head Student. Kenneth?" Over in Slytherin, Kenneth nodded, waiting for her to remove the silencing spell before standing, looking to the stationary students.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Do as she says!" There was a sudden flurry of action, and Dora let her eyes rove over the Great Hall. Over in Slytherin, Hermione and Lili were side by side, hands linked as they made their way to the top of the table. They were top of their year, together almost twenty-four seven, often joining Harry and Neville, as well as three later additions to their group, Megan Jones, Harry's best friend in Hufflepuff, Ron Weasley, Neville's friend from Gryffindor, and a Ravenclaw of whom Dora could never remember the name of – but she had spunk, Dora knew, and always had the top half of her hair pulled back into a complicated Celtic braid. Said girl was yammering away to one of her peers, calm in the face of a wild troll.

A glance at Harry saw him and Megan both sitting together, looking nervous, but where they were supposed to be. Neville and Ron at Gryffindor table were trying to get her attention. Suddenly wary at their panicked expressions, she walked down to them calmly.

"Tonks," Ron whispered furiously, "you need to help her."

"Who?" She questioned, before making her hair start flashing neon yellow and red, catching Flitwick's attention. As he hurried on, Neville told her of how Ron had accidentally been a racist prick to Parvati Patil, and her friend Lavender had gotten upset on her behalf – the two hadn't shown up for the feast, and as Kenneth hurried to inform her that Padma Patil was missing too, Dora had the terrible feeling that something was going to go wrong.

She was right.

* * *

 ** _BREAK-IN AT HOGWARTS: TROLL KILLS THREE FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS_**

 ** _Yesterday evening, on the thirty-first of October, 1991, on All-Hallows Eve, Hogwarts suffered three great losses. Eleven-year old students, Lavender Elizabeth Brown, Parvati Patil and her twin sister, Padma Patil, lost their lives when they came across a troll that had somehow found it's way deep into the heart of Hogwarts. The three girls were in a bathroom after an incident with another student that caused emotional harm when the troll entered and promptly bludgeoned each girl. St Mungos healers say that young Lavender died instantaneously, after being thrown into a wall. Padma and Parvati were not as lucky, Padma dying within five minutes of her first injuries, while Parvati passed away during her transportation to St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries._**

 ** _Rolanda Hooch, Flying Instructor, has been admitted to St Mungos after helping her fellow members of staff subdue the troll. The Prophet has been informed that she was in critical condition, but her recovery is suspected to be short and easy, and that people shouldn't worry over her wellbeing._**

 ** _Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, had this to say on the affair._**

 ** _"_** ** _It is tragic that the children lost their lives in such a terrible way. I have already contacted the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so that they may send a team to investigate as to how such a simple-minded being made it so far past our wards."_**

 ** _Research conducted by Daily Prophet reporters reveals that Hogwarts wards would not allow a troll to enter school grounds, let alone the castle without a witch or wizard giving it permission to enter. So, readers, what may we understand from this? Yes, it is to my utter shame, that I must report that the troll's presence in Hogwarts was no accident – we must now wonder as to the true purpose of its whereabouts this dark Halloween._**

It was the front page for three days. Remus immediately wrote to Dora, despite having sent another letter just hours before, replying to the one she sent the morning of Halloween. Dora herself told him what happened – how she organised everyone to stay in the hall, and for there to be a school-wide headcount. He praised her for her efforts, and said she had done a good thing. They might not have known how much danger the troll really posed before the girls were reported missing.

Sirius himself was more worried over Harry, as he rightfully should, but Remus had to have a serious conversation with him, convincing him not to pull his godson out of Hogwarts. He was back in Britain – they both were – but the animagus had plans to go back out into Europe, to join Melania. The girl had joined them in their travels, mainly for Sirius' company. Remus felt fine just leaving them both to wander, deciding to stay in Britain after hearing back from the lawyers.

The case for Neville had been something he'd been building since the summertime. With Neville's memories, wilfully offered and borrowed, stored safely in a pensieve, it should have been fine – but Augusta Longbottom was nothing if not fierce. She demanded her grandson back after he didn't return from Harry's birthday dinner, and when she called the DMLE, Harry had artfully spun a tale of knowing Neville for months and spending time together as godbrothers before Hogwarts started.

Remus made sure to make a note in his mind that told him to watch out for Harry and his potentially criminal ways.

Taking custody of Neville should have been an open and shut case – but it wasn't that easy. Augusta and Algernon weren't making it easy. Algernon claimed Neville was a traumatised child, and that his imagination ran wild, and Augusta was constantly bringing up her trump card: Alice and Frank. Because they were the first couple to have a child before going insane, there weren't any laws governing custody, so in all technicalities, Remus and Sirius were trying to win custody from their friends, not their friend's mother, and they didn't want to do that. Neville still lived in the home his parents owned, where Frank had let his mother stay after she refused to move out, so Augusta was a secondary caretaker rather than a primary.

Neville's wishes weren't taken into account, either, and Amelia Bones – who Judged over the case – had confided in Remus that unless he got Augusta to sign something of her own free will, he wouldn't be getting anywhere. The only other charge that he might get away with charging was that of assault, which would only stick if no-one insisted that with how the Law was written, Neville wasn't an eligible victim, as he was under seventeen. It was something Remus wanted to use as a last resort, because an assault charge required the victim present, and in a custody case, Neville didn't even have to know until someone new was appointed guardian.

At times, Remus wondered if it was worth all the hassle, all the bother – and then he would force himself to remember the Neville Longbottom that he'd picked up from Diagon Alley with Harry, who cowered in his grandmother's shadow, and flinched when she turned in his direction. In ways, he was worse than Harry – Harry, who had tried to find the kitchen his first morning in the townhouse, Harry, who had cleaned and polished and tried to do Dobby's job, Harry, who was brainwashed into thinking that he had to 'earn his keep' by doing 'chores'. Neville was different, because the abuse Augusta and Algernon inflicted was both mental and physical. Algernon had taught him that if he didn't have magic, he was nothing, and forced the magic out of him. For a Department of Mysteries-worker, he sure had no idea about magic.

"Magic is emotional, not instinctive – you have to learn to use magic as a defence before it becomes second-nature," he muttered, leafing through a document, before something in his mind clicked. _Harry and Neville are godbrothers._ His eyes widened. "Lily was Neville's godmother – who was his godfather?" He opened the drawer back up, taking all his papers out, rifling through them. He knew the record was there, somewhere – he had seen files reference Neville's absentee godfather, he knew he had!

Eventually, he found it, found the paper.

And Remus laughed, happily sad tears in his eyes, because _Merlin on a stake_.

"Alice, you saint – you amazing, brilliant witch."

Because gleaming on the parchment, magic preserving the shine of purple ink, sat _Remus J. Lupin._


	15. Chapter 15

"-so even prime magical numbers go…there!" Harry pointed to the parchment, where the Arithmancy Tree laid still. Dora, grinning at his hypothesis, hugged him to her side, pressing a kiss to his head.

"Awesome, buddy, you're better than I was at your age – you sure those muggles taught you nothing 'bout maths? Because if they hadn't, you're a genius." Harry flushed, before waving at it with a mumble about things making sense.

Beside them, Megan asked quietly, "What are you doing?"

Dora looked over to the shy girl, whose light brown fringe was dangerously long, covering most of her eyes. "Arithmancy. It's an elective option in third year – I'm teaching Harry early." Shifting, she let go of Harry, pushing over the Arithmancy Tree. "Arithmancy is basically magical maths. You learn how to identify different areas of magic using numbers, then create formulas with those numbers to make incantations for different spells – nowadays, because of how there's basically a spell for everything, people try to improve them using Arithmancy, shortening them, making them more powerful. Get it?" Megan nodded hesitantly.

"Harry's good at problem-solving," she bit her lip, looking nervously at Harry, who smiled at his friend.

"Thanks."

Dora watched them amusedly – they were so different from her and Charlie. Dora and Charlie had conversed in sarcasm and blunt truths, loudly and often extravagantly. Harry and Megan were different. While Harry could be outgoing at times, around Megan he seemed to lose that quality, a more private and personal Harry coming out. Dora could see them either as life-long friends, or one of those extremely close couples who grew old and died together with smiles on their faces. The young girl looked the part as well, beside Harry – their features just sort of _clicked_ , all the right curves and angles in both. _If they have babies, I_ _ **so**_ _call being Nana_.

After a moment, she realised just what she'd been thinking and looked away, concentrating on making sure all her features stayed the same so as not to reveal her strange and just… _weird_ , thought. What was she thinking, anyway? Harry and Megan wouldn't have babies – and she certainly wouldn't be called Nana. She wasn't even related to Harry- well, she was, but not like _that_. Harry's kids wouldn't be her _grandchildren_ … _Preposterous._ Dora shook herself, shaking her head before noticing the time, thoughts suddenly going in a different direction.

"Harry, I'm going now – I'll see you on Monday."

But Harry was already immersed in conversation with Megan, their voices barely audible as he seemed to guide her around the Arithmancy tree. Dora sighed, before leaning over to kiss his auburn curls, smiling slightly as he didn't even stray from his topic, just shuffling closer to Megan, getting off the edge of her school skirt. Sliding around the oval table, Dora got out from the booth-like study area, pulling her bag behind her, popping into her room – she'd gotten the password to the Hufflepuff Head Student quarters with her badge, a vast improvement to sharing with seventeen year olds.

Tripping over the portrait step wasn't part of the plan, but she ignored the laughter, long since used to it. Once in, she dumped her bag, changing out of her uniform into a set of skinny jeans, grey tank top and one of her favourite baggy Weird Sisters shirts, before looking in the mirror and changing her hair around.

"Long? Short? Ooh – first time we met," her hair shifted, becoming shoulder-length, turning a familiar shade of lavender. But her nose scrunched up. Her eyes were too pale a pink for lavender. They were quickly changed into a medium brown, before she looked herself over.

 _I look like a teenager._

The realisation stopped her short. Being in Hogwarts, surrounded by the younger generations instead of adults had changed her perspective. Would Remus even want to see her like this? It had barely been two weeks since Halloween – thank Merlin for Dumbledore's love of _love_ and his gratitude for her actions on that disastrous evening – and they would be spending the weekend together. She shouldn't force him to look at her and see how much younger she really was, shouldn't encourage that type of thinking. Having brightly coloured hair just made it more obvious.

Pursing her lips, Dora breathed in through her nose before turning around, taking off her Weird Sisters shirt with a pang, throwing it on her bed before rifling through her trunk, finding the same floral blouse she'd worn on the Hogwarts Express, but disregarded it after realising she'd forgotten to put it in her laundry bin, despite it having been months. Chucking it over, then watching it fall short, Dora looked through more thoroughly, finally finding underneath a bunch of letters from Charlie and Kali, a white bat-wing shirt, with blue stripes starting at the chest. Putting it on, she shimmied out of her black jeans, changing into a looser grey pair, and tucking her earrings away in their little pouch, tangling with the dozens of others. She couldn't _quite_ push herself to change her thick black Doc Martins though, and tied the laces quickly after pulling on some black socks.

Then she went back to the mirror. She looked more mature. Older. Biting her lips, she decided to leave the brown she'd changed her eyes to, instead focusing on her hair. Slowly it deepened, becoming a dark brown, the ends becoming a lighter blonde after a moment. Then she made it wavy, and long, pulling it up into a high pony-tail with her hand. Dora grimaced, before dropping it, shortening it to her shoulders again. She glanced at her watch.

 _No time_. She looked at the mirror again, making her lips a faint lipstick shade of pink. _It'll have to do_. Turning away from the mirror, she strapped her wand holster on, hanging it low on her back, just below the edge of her shirt, using a sticking charm rather than the strap to stick them both in place, to avoid any difficulties with her shirt getting in the way. Then her wand slid in, and she breathed. _Calm down, just calm down, Lupin_.

Her heart thudded, and Dora had to force herself to walk out of her room before she did something stupid, like bail on him. _What am I even afraid of? He's my husband – he loves me for who I am_. The reassurance actually did do something for her nerves, and as she walked across Hufflepuff common room, she saw a few younger years frowning at her, not recognising her without her bright hair. One even had the gall to ask who she was, but a raised eyebrow and short morphing of her hair made him apologise, abashed.

Then, the walk to Professor Sprout's office went quickly, her feet taking her where she needed to be. Professor Sprout smiled when she saw her.

"You look lovely, Miss Tonks."

"Thanks, Pomona," she grinned slightly before taking floo powder from the mantle, throwing it in the fire and calling their address. The flames turned green, and she jumped in, soon exiting with a stumble and a _thump_ , foot having caught on the grate as she arrived.

"Great landing," came Remus' joking voice, before she looked over to where he sat on the red leather sofa reading a book, which he shut as she stood. "How have you been?"

Dora made a tired sound, coming over to drop onto his lap, head resting against his shoulder for a few seconds as his arms wrapped around her. "What were you reading?" She questioned quietly, after a few more seconds. His hand, seemingly on reflex, went to cover it, as if he expected her to take it.

"Something to help with our Dark Lord situation. It's mostly drivel, but there are some key enlightening facts about goblins that I can use."

Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him, "Goblins?"

Remus nodded, "Harry broke into Gringotts, remember, less than a day before the Battle of Hogwarts. A horcrux must have been there." _Horcrux_. She rolled the word over in her mind, but it meant nothing to her. Remus tapped the book. "Well apparently, the goblin clans – before they became the Goblin Nation – were only against Herpo the Foul because he created two. If we tell them that one is in their tunnels, guarded by a blind dragon-"

"Ukrainian Iron-belly," Dora put in.

"-Guarded by a blind Ukrainian Iron-belly," he corrected, "then they should do that job for us. We've already got two – a locket and a ring. The one in Gringotts would be the third. Harry never specified how many there were though, but the soul isn't meant to be torn once, let alone three times. After Gringotts," he chanced a look at her as she thought on his words, on 'tearing' and 'tearing souls', "after Gringotts, I want to talk to Dumbledore."

Dora's eyes widened, "Dumbledore? You're going to tell him about us?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "Not if I can help it. I'll make up a story – starting with the locket. It was the one we found in Grimmauld Place before selling it to Narcissa." Dora stayed silent, and when it looked like Remus was finished, shifted onto her knees, leaning down to kiss him softly. His hand went to her hip, the other wrapping around her thigh as she knelt there, hands coming to thread through his hair.

At a pause to breath, Remus muttered, "You're so beautiful." Unwillingly, Dora felt her fears from before rise again, hair shifting without her consent – straightening and becoming a dark green. He brought his hand up, running his fingers through it, kissing her again. "So, so beautiful – no matter whether you have a pig's nose or purple hair, or your eyes go completely black or you let it all go. My beautiful, perfect wife." Dora pulled away, confused.

"But I'm not perfect," she argued, swallowing roughly, tears stinging her eyes. "I look like a stupid kid half the time, and-"

"You're perfect to me," Remus interrupted, staring at her with eyes that flickered amber despite still having two weeks till full moon. "You'll never get me to change my mind."

Dora looked down at her hands that Remus soon intertwined with his own, sucking in a breath at seeing him wearing his own ring – a band of gold that hadn't caught her notice until just then. _How didn't I notice?_ Maybe she hadn't even been looking-

"Like it? I wear it under a notice-me-not, usually, so Sirius can't tease me about getting overexcited, but I'm yours – why shouldn't I get to see a reminder every day like you do?" Dora felt a smile growing on her face at that, smug in the fact that he called himself _hers_. He leant up, and she kissed him, just as the door opened.

"Moony- oh, and Nymphadora! Stop kissing my fellow Marauder and meet Melania!" Dora's lips left Remus' regretfully, eyes turning to Sirius, who was smiling widely, pushing a girl forward. Dora took her in, noting how similar she looked to Walburga Black – but a lot, lot younger, and much more pretty, with a very visible smattering of freckles across her face.

"Hi," Melania bit her lip, holding back part of her grin. "I've heard so much about you – Dora, right? Or Tonks?"

Dora looked to Remus, who murmured about her being Sirius' direct cousin. Seeing as she'd never heard of a Melania Black other than Sirius' grandmother on Orion Black's side of the tree, Dora assumed she herself was probably only distantly related to her, rather than directly like Sirius. Easing off Remus' lap, she sorted her shirt before turning, only to catch her boot on the carpet. She started to fall in the direction of the glass coffee table, but Remus was quick to stand and grab her, pulling her into him so she didn't fall.

"You are the clumsiest person on the planet, sometimes," he muttered, before leading her _off_ the carpet, to stand in front of Melania, who had her hand over her mouth, looking worried.

"That happens often?"

"Very often," Dora said proudly, before holding out a hand for Melania to shake, "Nice to meet you, Mel. Call me Tonks."

"Lovely to meet you too, Tonks," the girl smiled, shaking her outstretched hand before looking to Remus, "Hello again."

Remus gave a pleasant smile, "Hello – I hope Sirius hasn't been too much of a bother since I decided to come home?"

Melania shrugged, "He's been tolerable. We're going to New York in a couple of hours though."

"Yeah," Sirius put in, "We're gonna be _completely_ muggle, no magic for an entire day." Dora snorted, Remus laughing.

"An entire day, you say?" Sirius nodded seriously, before Remus shook his head. "I almost wish I was coming."

"You should," Sirius looked at him determinedly, "You missed out on so much, Moony – we went to Italy and it had these _amazing_ pizzas."

"Well, Italy _is_ famous for them, but I'll have to say no." Remus' hand took hers unconsciously, and she squeezed it back reassuringly. "Dora's getting the weekends off with me here, though I'm not sure how regularly."

"Every third weekend," Dora said, "Dumbledore reminded me that I do actually have schoolwork to do, so one or two weekends a month is okay, but because he's still under the impression that I'm-" she stopped abruptly, looking at Melania. Behind her, Sirius made a cutting gesture at his neck, and Dora tried to swerve, doing so literally as if she'd suddenly had a thought. "You mentioned the goblins before." Remus seemed to know what she was doing, and nodded as she scrambled to say something. "I can- I can help? I think. Charlie- his brother, Bill, he's a curse-breaker for Gringotts. You said you wanted to talk to them, well he'd probably know how to approach them, and all that."

Remus' eyebrows went up in thought, "I suppose it could work. I'll write to him." Dora nodded in agreement, before turning back to the two Black's. Sirius helpfully started to tell them more about their travels, and the group soon migrated back to the sofas, Dora sitting on Remus' lap as the two cousins described Magical Germany, all exclamations and excitement.

"-and then I realised he was actually trying to tell me that my robe was on fire!"

* * *

"We need to talk about Neville."

Remus looked at his wife seriously as they stood in the office. Dora saw his serious expression, and very quickly her professional mask took over her face, prompting him to walk over to his desk, taking Neville's papers out of the drawer. He showed her his birth-certificate, with Alice and Frank's names, and then Neville's godparents beneath.

"Remus, this is brilliant!" Dora looked at him, eyes wide with amazement. "He can actually come live here full-time if you can find a way to get this brought up."

But Remus shook his head, face grim, "It's not that simple. I'm a werewolf – with Umbridge, laws were passed in recent years that disallow this. Even living in the same house as a child could get me in trouble. No," he shook his head, lifting the paper, "what I think I should do is show it to Augusta, so she can understand something: Alice and Frank trusted me with their son. I don't know if they had a Will – with their states, they wouldn't even be touched anyway – but if I could also get my hands on _that_ , and if there's anything regarding custody of Neville on it, Augusta will have to see…I don't know, something." He rubbed his forehead, sitting down in his chair. Dora came close, rubbing his shoulders.

"…what if we had all his others relatives vye for custody?" She questioned after a moment, catching Remus' attention. "Even if we can't take him from Augusta, we make the courts believe she's untrustworthy around children. Having his relatives all begging for Neville to move to someone else's home, even if it's not their own, would put Augusta in a position that she wouldn't like – and Amelia's on your side, right?"

"Yes, she is," Remus muttered, "But I don't know Neville's family tree."

"But _he_ does," Dora grinned, before leaning down to kiss him, hair turning a pleasant purple-red. "We're going to get him, Re, he's going to come home to us."

Remus smiled, "You make us sound like we're his parents."

"Well," she gave a flighty smile, "you _are_ his godfather. I think that's close enough – and I'm Aunty Dora, after all." She kissed him again, smiling into his mouth. "You're a good father."

"I hope I am," he replied quietly as she straightened, "and I thought about what you said in that letter of yours." Her expression changed slightly, corners of her mouth turning down slightly, her fingers clutching the wooden back of his chair. "It's been over a year since we lost Teddy," her hand went to her necklace, hidden under the fabric of her shirt, and Remus' heart thumped extra hard in his chest, "and we won't ever get over that. But I think we could- I think we could do it. Have another child – one that would grow and not have to live in a world where we died, or was erased from time."

Dora licked her lips, "And you're sure? You want to do this?"

"Well, not right now," he gave a small grin, before it fell away, a more content expression filling his face as he reached for her, fingers tracing lines in the planes of her stomach. "But later. After you're through the Auror Academy and you're in the Core, and can afford to take time off." She smiled softly at him at that, their eyes meeting at the agreement, before his hand moved, going to her hip as he stood. "Until then though…would you consider a few practice runs? Just to make sure we're up to it when the time comes?"

Dora smirked, before shrugging nonchalantly. "Sure, though maybe more than a few – there are all those different positions, after all." She slid up to him fully, their bodies moulding together before he kissed her, deeply and hotly, before Dora took out her wand, levitating Neville's files into the drawer, shutting it before leaning up, rasping into his ear.

"On your desk."

He didn't hesitate to oblige.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry glared.

Daphne glared back.

Between them laid their shared Herbology project – dead, and looking absolutely _awful_.

"If my grade average goes down because of this, it is not _my_ fault," Daphne said icily, causing Harry's glare to increase.

" _I'm_ not the one who _killed_ our plant! I've been gardening for over six _years_ – what you've done to that poor thing is _abominable_."

Daphne sneered, "Six years, you say – I don't believe you. You're Harry Potter, you probably had _servants_."

Harry could feel his rage building. _She did_ _ **not**_ _just say that_. But Megan was tugging at his sleeve, cowering behind him, trying to get him to turn around. Harry wanted to – he really did – but _Daphne Greengrass was blaming him!_ Him! He wasn't the one to hack off all the green it had, to make it look 'less hideous'. He wasn't the one who argued 'the soil was too wet' and took it out roughly, putting more dry earth in it, _destroying_ what root system it had, then forced him not to interfere.

And now she was calling him a _liar._

"I did _not_ have servants, unlike you!" He hissed, "I only _just_ got introduced to the Wizarding World this summer when I moved in with my godfather – only _just_ started living with a house-elf. I _did_ garden for over six years, and I did _not_ lie about it!" But Greengrass just looked at him like one would a cockroach: in disgust.

"You were raised by _muggles?_ No wonder you're so _ignorant_." Harry went to shoot back a reply when Megan roughly tugged him back, stepping up to Daphne.

"Leave him alone, Greengrass," she ordered, shaking like a leaf, but holding her ground. "Just because you're rubbish at something doesn't mean you can be mean."

Daphne's sneer only grew, "Well if you had all-O's straight across your entire syllabus, then you would attempt manipulation of the facts too – but you don't, because you're a _Hufflepuff_ , and a _mudblood_ at that." Megan gasped, stepping back, eyes filling with tears, even as Harry became confused.

"Megan?" He muttered, licking his lips. Whatever- whatever _mudblood_ meant, he could tell it wasn't good – and suddenly his righteous fury flared, his brain filling with pain as he stepped around his friend, unable to control his body as he picked up a trowel and, without even _trying_ to stop, threw it at Daphne's face.

Her scream caused everyone in the greenhouse to stop and look at what he'd done.

Daphne was on the ground, having tripped backwards over a bag of compost, hands holding her eye as her shoulders shook, blood clearly visible even on the shadowed floor. Harry's eyes widened, suddenly terrified as Professor Sprout hurried over, helping Daphne up, his arm dropping. She spoke to him but he didn't hear, the blood rushing to his ears as his scar throbbed, feeling as though tendrils were receding from his limbs into his head, bundling up and disappearing as if they'd never existed – but all he could see was Daphne, hands covering her socket, trowel on the ground, light reflecting off the red liquid coating it's end.

 _What have- what have I-_

 _What have I_ _ **done**_ _?_

* * *

Being called to Hogwarts the day after Dora had left would have once been an exciting prospect – but right now, that was not so. Remus had been fire-called by Dumbledore himself, asking him to step through into his office. Harry had hurt another student.

 _Harry_.

He wasn't being called so he could see Dora, what he would expect – he was being called because Sirius wasn't there, and he was acting as Harry's guardian in his absence.

Upon stepping out into Dumbledore's office, the first thing Remus saw was Harry in the chair, tear tracks on his face. He looked hollow, eyes empty. His gaze flew to Dumbledore, and- and it wasn't the same as seeing it in a fireplace. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts – alive, and well. Images of his broken body, lying below the astronomy tower, flew through his mind, until he snapped himself out of it, looking back to Harry.

Going over, Remus noticed Pomona Sprout standing nearby, beside a young Hufflepuff girl and two haughty-looking adults, Severus Snape standing a few paces further away, before he crouched in front of Harry and looked to him.

"Pup, Sirius is in New York with his cousin Melania right now – you've gotten all his letters about travelling Europe?" Harry nodded limply. "He's still travelling, so he can't be here." Harry looked up, meeting his eyes, nodding, and in another time and place, the way his fringe bobbed along would have been comical. But Remus could see the unfathomable confusion, and fear, and guilt in his eyes, and knew as he looked that it wasn't a farce. Harry had hurt another student. Badly.

"Remus, perhaps you would like to hear the tale of events?" Remus glanced at Dumbledore, nodding slightly. "Mr Potter was in Herbology class with his fellow house-mates and peers, when he got into an argument with one Daphne Greengrass over how she'd ruined their Toadwood Flower. According to Miss Jones-" he motioned to the Hufflepuff girl "-who was next to the pair during the lesson, Miss Greengrass did not believe Mr Potter on something he had said, calling him a liar. Mr Potter became angry, and Miss Jones separated them, confronting Miss Greengrass herself." At this, Dumbledore's face gained something of a grimace. "Unfortunately, this only worsened the confrontation when Miss Greengrass called Miss Jones a derogatory term, upsetting her to tears. Mr Potter then promptly threw a gardening tool at Miss Greengrass, unfortunately catching her in the eye with the pointy end. At the request of her parents," he nodded to the strangers, "Miss Greengrass has been transferred to St Mungos, where her private healer will tend her, before going home for Christmas break early."

"Too right she will," the man scoffed, "My daughter will not be staying here around violent students – and it is up to her whether she wishes to transfer to Beauxbatons after this debacle is over, too!"

Remus looked to Harry.

Harry, teary-eyed and a lot less hollow now, clenched his fist. "She called Megan a- a _mudblood_." Remus jerked, turning his eyes to the girl, who cringed and moved into Professor Sprout's arm, who hugged her tightly. Beside them, the parents though, they just sneered at her. Inside, his wolf growled, and he felt his blood boil. _They're blood supremists – of_ _ **course**_ _._ He took Harry's hand to calm himself, squeezing lightly.

Dumbledore spoke directly to Harry, "As bad as it may be though, Mr Potter, it is only a word. You have severely hurt another student, and for that you will be punished accordingly." He met Remus' eyes. "As the guardian to students in this school while they sleep under this roof, I am only required to call parents in if their child is ill, injured, or are under threat of either suspension or expulsion."

"Expel him!" The mother of Miss Greengrass – which would make her Mrs Greengrass – said snootily, sneer making her face twist and revolt against her. Harry's hand in his suddenly squeezed – tight. Remus looked back at him, ignoring Dumbledore's conversation with the parents, listening closely to Harry as he mumbled, begging quietly.

"Can Aunty Dora come up? Please, Uncle Remus?"

"She's probably in class right now," he whispered back, "Why? Do you want her here like I am?" Harry's shoulders started shaking, his head ducking.

"I didn't mean it, I didn't- I couldn't- I couldn't control my own body," he whispered, frantic, eyes zipping about. "Uncle Remus, I didn't- I know how it- I know how it looks but it _wasn't me._ " Remus' face crumpled – what did Harry mean?

"Mr Potter? Mr Lupin?" Dumbledore caught their attention, which was when Remus noticed the parents had left. "Lord and Lady Greengrass are to take a short trip to check on Miss Greengrass' welfare, and will be back soon. Is there anything you would like? Tea? Lemon drops?" Dumbledore held one out, and Remus felt the man was trying, but this sort of situation – even in his time at Hogwarts, nothing like this had happened. Not so young – the closest comparison he could make was Sirius baiting Severus, pointing him in a direction that brought him near to death that full moon. Sirius had been suspended for three months, and Mrs Potter had apparently never been so cold.

On the chair, Harry trembled, speaking up, "Can Aunty Dora come up? Please?" Remus shot him a look, mentally asking him what he was thinking, calling her Aunty Dora in front of Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling curiously.

"'Aunty Dora'? I'm afraid I have no idea as to who you refer to, my boy," he said lowly, slowly, as if he were focused on his thoughts more than reality. "Though…"

"Aunty Dora is Tonks," Harry said quietly, "Can she come up, sir, please? I- I just-" he lapsed into silence, and Remus' nerves were on end as he waited for Dumbledore's reply – only to notice the narrowed gaze coming from his once-schoolyard enemy. He held the gaze for only a few seconds though, before snapping his around to look at Dumbledore as he spoke.

"I will ask her professor if she can be spared," Dumbledore was already writing a memo, soon folding it and sending it off with Fawkes, whose flames made a paper on Dumbledore's desk catch fire, falling off. Remus helpfully put the fire out, picking the paper up, blinking furiously as he suddenly saw a vaguely familiar list.

 _Ring_

 _Locket_

 _Diary (Lucius)_

 _Hufflepuff's Cup (Bellatrix)_

 _Nagini (1994?)_

 _Harry_

 _[Ravenclaw]_

"Uncle Remus?"

Remus snapped out of his slight daze, giving the list back to Dumbledore, who was looking at him normally, as if he hadn't just read through a list of potential horcruxes – one that _Harry himself_ was on.

"Yes pup?" He questioned, right before Fawkes flamed back in – plus an extra passenger, who teetered where she stood. By now it was simply reflex, and as Dora fell, he caught her.

"Oh," she blinked at seeing him, "Wotcher, handsome." He held her as she got her bearings, standing up straight, looking at Fawkes, "Cool. Need to work on the landing a bit though." Fawkes squawked, before Dora looked around and saw Harry, her eyes immediately going wide.

"Harry?" She went past him, standing Harry up and looking him over, head to toe. Remus had to say – it was fascinating watching them together, even in their situation. Harry was quick to stop her, and to tell her – slowly – what happened. By the time he finished, he wasn't holding back tears. Little Megan looked like she was going to cry too, Sprout's lips only pressed together sadly.

Snape looked unimpressed by his upset, but Remus didn't give a damn about him right now.

Dora almost immediately wrapped him up in her arms, holding him tightly, lips whispering into his hair, her own a dark, dark grey, lank and lifeless as she tried – and succeeded – to calm him down. Soon, Harry was wiping his face, looking refreshed and more like himself, standing now with the rest of them, Dora's hand on his shoulder comfortingly, Remus himself moving to stand nearer – yet remaining a distance away from Dora that had her actively frowning at him.

"What's wrong?"

Remus glanced around self-consciously, speaking quietly, as he tried to avoid both Snape's and Dumbledore's looks. "It's- there are people." Dora raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I know. Now get over yourself. No-one cares about your furry little problem. Your nephew is in trouble and very upset and angry at himself. Get over here and hold his hand or something."

Remus flushed in embarrassment before looking at Harry in apology, coming closer and standing closer, their arms pressed together. Beside him, Dora met his eyes, and they communicated silently – Harry's plight was serious, and Dora wanted to know what he had planned. He just shook his head.

"-and so much blood for such a small appendage," the door suddenly swung open, Mrs Greengrass rolling her eyes. This time, the couple came closer to the desk, level with Remus and Dora as they stood behind Harry.

Mr Greengrass met Dumbledore's eyes, "So what have you decided, Headmaster? Expulsion? Suspension?"

Dumbledore looked grave, hands clasped together. "Mr Potter shall be suspended for the remaining school term, and a further week into the new term. Furthermore, he shall not be allowed within ten feet of Miss Greengrass during classtime, mealtimes and any other free times for the rest of the school year – this ten foot ban would obviously though shorten in corridors when they pass each other, and in classes where there is simply no option, but it will not get any shorter than four feet. I shall cast the spell myself."

"Is that it?" Mrs Greengrass spluttered. "But- but he _injured a student!_ He should be _expelled!_ "

"Madam," Dumbledore met her gaze, "Many students have passed through these halls, and many times, students have injured other students, and on some occasions, even endangered the lives of others." Remus ignored how the Headmaster's gaze accidentally strayed to Snape out of respect. Harry didn't have such control, let alone over his curiosity, and he quickly turned his head back around after receiving what was most likely a glare. "However, Miss Greengrass is the first first-year to be assaulted by a fellow first-year in a way such as this, and during classtime. The fact that she had to seek medical attention immediately is another factor – as you may know, students usually curse and jinx each other, rather than so…crudely, cause another pain. Mr Potter has taken full responsibility for his crime, and I'm sure that his guardians will also see to their own punishments. As Professor Snape can attest to, they are creative in their own ways." Dora snorted at that, hair flashing green.

"Creative? They're damn brilliant, is what they are."

Mrs Greengrass looked at her, sniffing, "And who are you? Some other student in trouble?"

Dora turned, letting them get a good look at her, hair changing from green to pink, eyes following as her favoured teen look came over her – hair shaved on one side, and lengthening as it turned around her head, piercings in full view. Mrs Greengrass cringed and Dora smirked slightly before she changed back, hair staying pink as it went to her shoulders.

"I'm a close member of Harry's family, Mrs Greengrass. He asked that I come for support."

Mr Greengrass glared, "He doesn't need _support_ , he needs _expulsion_."

Dora glared. "He's already received his punishment. Don't get stroppy."

"Don't get-" he spluttered, before his face grew mean and cold, "Who are you?"

"None of your business," she raised her hand, pointing at the door. "You should go back to your daughter. No doubt she needs more support than Harry does."

Mr Greengrass rolled his eyes, "Daphne needs no coddling. She is perfectly responsible and mature-"

"Well obviously not mature enough," Remus interrupted coldly, "if she thought she could get away with calling someone such a terrible, horrendous name in front of the Boy-Who-Lived. Who does she get that from, I wonder – you, or your wife?"

"Why, you-" Mrs Greengrass went for her wand, when Dumbledore interrupted.

"Calm yourselves," his tone brooked no argument. He looked to the Greengrass'. "I happen to agree with Miss Tonks – Miss Greengrass is still a child, despite your beliefs in her maturity. I have been teaching for over a century, and if I cannot judge a child, then I would be a terrible headmaster." He looked over his half-moon spectacles at them, "I am deeply sorry for the anguish and frustrations this has brought to you and yours. Professor Sprout and Miss Jones would both be glad to see you to the front gates – or perhaps only Professor Sprout, if Miss Jones wishes to return to classes."

The Greengrass' both looked terribly angry still, but they heeded his words, Sprout and Megan leaving. Dumbledore sighed.

"Such difficult people," he murmured, before unwrapping a lemon drop. "Would any of you care a lemon drop?" Remus shook his head, but Dora nodded, taking three from the waiting bowl, stuffing them in her mouth. At Harry's weirded-out look, she shrugged.

"I'm angry, and they're laced with calming draught." She looked to Snape. "I know that face – what do you want to know, Professor Bat?"

"Twenty point from Hufflepuff, for disrespecting your professor," he replied smoothly, before looking to Remus, "You know, I had no idea you preferred them young."

Remus grit his teeth, "Not that it's any of your business."

Snape smirked, "She's a student."

"An eighteen year old student," he points out, "that makes her a consenting adult – in both worlds." Snape shouldn't be allowed to comment, shouldn't even care – it wasn't any of his business, and Remus doesn't want to tell him anything. He wants to smack that smug smirk right off his face.

He nearly does at his next words.

"I wonder – who is Edward Remus Lupin?"

Remus lunges without thinking, intending to grab him, to shake him, _hurt him_ and only Dora's grasp around his wrist keeps him from completely _mauling_ the man, eyes amber as he growls.

"How the hell do you know that name?"

"Remus," Dora tries to speak, "Remus, calm down. He confiscated my bangle during Potions – he doesn't know who he is, please-" Remus continues to growl though, and Snape looks wary now.

Teddy is one button Snape will never be allowed to push.

"Never say that name again," he orders, snarling, " _Ever_. Do you hear me, Snape? If you do, I will do a _lot_ worse than what I nearly did to you in seventh year." At that, Dumbledore speaks, wary, the colour receding from Snape's face.

"Remus, my boy, surely things can be resolved peacefully, rather than with threats?"

"Professor," Dora looked at him seriously, "no offense but don't get involved. There are things you don't understand."

Dumbledore frowned softly, "I would assume that Mr Lupin is your fiancé – is that not enough?" The Headmaster looked different now, emotions disappearing from his face as he surveyed them, looking suddenly grave.

"No," she said simply, before looking back to Remus, tugging at him. "Remus, come on, snap out of it. We need to get Harry's things from Hufflepuff – have you ever been to Hufflepuff common room before?" Remus is still for a few more seconds before he steps back, taking Dora's hand tightly, looking to Harry.

"Would you like to lead us to your dorm so we can get your things?" Harry looked decidedly wary, but nodded, walking past them and Professor Snape, Dora following and pulling him along. Remus manages to get one last glare in at Snape before turning his attention to Harry as he worries aloud about Megan.

Teddy is one button Snape will never be allowed to push.

* * *

 _Neville,_

 _It is my pleasure to inform you that on the nineteenth of November, 1991, Augusta Longbottom and Algernon Croaker were pronounced unfit to be around children. So as not to endanger you, your official place of residence has been changed, and I, Remus John Lupin, have been awarded loco parentis while Alice and Frank Longbottom reside in St Mungos._

 _You won't ever have to see them again, Neville._

 _Love, your godfather, Remus_

Neville stared at the letter, stock still.

He didn't have to go back.

He _didn't have to go back!_

A laugh bubbled out of his throat, small, and then he was whooping, laughing hysterically, joyful, cutlery around him lifting into the air and dancing around as he celebrated.

"Nev? What's happened?" Ron's eyes were wide as he watched the uncontrolled magic. Neville stopped, holding out the letter to him, eyes shining. Ron took it, reading.

"Merlin's balls! So now-"

"I don't ever have to go back," Neville beamed, "I never have to see them again while I'm under seventeen. And Remus is my godfather – he's my _godfather!_ I didn't even know!"

Ron grinned at him, "Brilliant. Bloody brilliant." He thumped his shoulder, ruffling his hair, "Good on you, mate." Neville just smiled, unabashedly, the cutlery still floating in the air.


	17. Chapter 17

The boy rung his hands.

Across the street, he could see them through the window, approaching their fireplace. _Go, go somewhere, please, please_. The boy watched nervously as, one by one, they flooed away – only to leave the woman behind. Despairing now, the boy decided to go forth with his plan anyway – if he didn't, he'd be worse than dead. Coming up to the house, the boy expected wards to push at him, or at least _recognise_ him as an intruder.

But to his horror, they didn't even exist.

Feeling a cool panic settling over him, the boy started climbing the drainpipe, hands thankfully dry as he made his way to the roof, climbing onto the tiles with ease – only to find himself slipping, lacking grips. He licked his lips. _What I do now will affect the future._ He looked around, before breathing in, gathering his strength and tugging at a tile gently, pulling it out of the roofing with ease. Magic would protect any leakages. It was all aesthetics anyway. Stuffing the tile into his jacket, he zipped it up before starting to slowly climb a familiar path, pulling out tiles when need be, until he got to the top – where the roof abruptly sliced downwards.

Leaning his head over the short height, he looked through glass, breathing easier at the lack of owls, before slipping off onto the balcony. The tiles weighed in his shirt, slipping, but the boy made sure they didn't fall, instead taking them out and placing them in the corner of the balcony. Unzipping his jumper, he brushed himself down of dust before doing to the door, opening it and stepping inside.

 _Still no wards,_ he swallowed, before making his way down the staircase, crouching low to the ground so he could see the woman before she saw him, and get out the way, if necessary. Once down the right amount of flights, he headed to the familiar room, eyeing the strewn possessions. Clothes, a Nimbus 2000, scattered games and even an album, which looked to have fallen off a desk. From where the boy stood, a picture of seven children older than him, all crammed in together, the magical nature allowing him to see how they shoved each other out of the way slightly, pushing around as a girl with braided hair took picture after picture, making funny faces as everyone else surrounded her.

"Morag McDougal," he muttered in recognition, before shutting the door, heading towards the bed where a trunk sat at the end. He had to find it.

He had to find Harry Potter's invisibility cloak.

* * *

Harry didn't know why Uncle Remus was taking him to Gringotts, but he'd said it was important he didn't ask questions, or speak to any of the goblins. Uncle Remus needed him for something – and Harry had no clue what that something was. Uncle Remus had been looking harried recently, and Harry knew he'd been in correspondence with the goblins. He just had to wonder what Uncle Remus needed _him_ for when older, more useful people could go with him.

Approaching a desk, Uncle Remus spoke in slow, painstakingly practiced Gobbledegook Harry had overheard him going over and over again that past week. The goblin at the desk narrowed its beady eyes before barking an order to a nearby goblin, who motioned for them to follow. It led them out of the main foyer into a system of caves similar to the vault caves, but it was no cavernous space like that – it was small, and crowded, and Uncle Remus had to bend his back, knocking his head more than once as they were led through what seemed to be a market. They were pushed about, and Harry stumbled a few times over other goblins and sheathed swords that trailed on the ground behind some of the burlier ones.

Eventually though, they came to the edge of the market, where goblins set up tent-like huts along the stone walls. The goblin leading them stopped outside one of the smaller huts, where an ancient, decrepit goblin covered in glowing green stones sat, surrounded by more stones decorated with intricate carvings and what Harry recognised as Runes.

"Boy," the goblin rasped, motioning him forward. Harry looked to his Uncle Remus, who nodded encouragingly. Gathering his courage, Harry went, wincing as the goblin pulled him down to sit in front of him roughly, his knees taking the brunt of the blow. The goblin ran a paper-dry finger over his face, up and to his scar, other hand pushing back his fringe. Under the goblins finger, Harry suddenly felt a pressure, and a stinging sensation around the skin, before the goblin started muttering under its breath, eyes rolling back in its head. The stinging got worse, until Harry couldn't hold back a pained gasp – which was when the skin of his forehead split open, the goblin tugging at- tugging at something black, and viscous. Harry let out pained noises, before the goblin gave an almighty _wrench_ , the black tar immediately screaming out, high-pitched but muffled, the din of the market blanketing what would have been a terrible sound.

Harry breathed heavily, staring at the gelatine-like liquid, Uncle Remus' hand coming to his shoulder. "What- what is that? Why was it in my _head?_ "

The goblin grinned nastily, before bringing the black… _creature_ , because it had to be alive, to its mouth, sucking with a black, gaping maw, and Harry had to jerk back at the sudden feeling of _wrongness_ and _fear_ and _death_. Uncle Remus seemed to feel the same, pulling him up and away from the goblin as it devoured the black tar, their goblin guide barking something that had them moving again, following the walls to a gap. As they went through it, Harry looked back at the goblin, getting a black-toothed grin before Uncle Remus yanked him out of its sight.

"Uncle Remus, what just happened?" He asked as they followed the goblin. The werewolf's face was drawn and tight, scars stretched and more visible than ever, even in the shadows of the caves, lit only by the occasional torch.

"Not now, pup," he muttered, "I promise I'll explain later, but right now you need to stay silent. Goblin children are not supposed to speak outside of their homes, schools and training grounds, and aren't really supposed to leave them either. You're lucky you aren't being carted off to join them." Harry made a face.

"But I'm not a goblin."

Uncle Remus glanced at him, an indescribable look on his face. "No, but both your mother and I became Goblin Friends before you were born – it wouldn't be unheard of for people of our status to foster a child with the Goblin Nation for three years, as further tribute. The Ministry doesn't like it, but it does happen. If they tried to stop it, they'd be breaking the Goblin Treaty."

Harry wanted to ask more, but at that, Uncle Remus gave him a sharp look, the words dying in his mouth as he remembered what he'd just been told about goblin children. He made a note to ask more about it all when they got home – he didn't like being in the dark, or being blind to potential cultural faux-pas' in the heart of said culture's home.

They walked longer than they had to get to the first goblin, a quiet falling as they traversed tunnel after tunnel, cave after cave, passing conclaves and more markets and even once what seemed to be a bath-house, steadily going deeper into the earth. Harry's legs were burning when they stopped, breath short. Uncle Remus was fine, werewolf stamina coming the rescue.

"You will wait here," the goblin guide ordered, before walking off. Harry looked around. They were in some kind of chamber, with a cut-out window into another room in front and above them – from which soon appeared a goblin in great golden armour, a crown laid on his head and a hefty axe in hand. He sat down on a seat Harry couldn't see, and the Boy-Who-Lived had to wonder, _is he a king?_

Uncle Remus knelt, head lowering, and Harry belatedly copied him, but the king only made a gruff sound of amusement.

"The boy should not be here – he does not know proper protocol. But William Weasley, Cursebreaker and Loyal Gringotts Employee had sworn all matter of oaths saying that he is a worthy of being in my presence. Stories say you took First Blood a short time ago, boy. Rise. Tell me."

Harry floundered. Did he mean the stuff with Daphne? Shame filled hit gut, hot and heavy, but the goblin was staring at him, and Harry figured that goblins were warriors – if the armour and weapons weren't examples enough – so maybe doing what he had done was good in their culture. He wanted to look to Uncle Remus, but the king held his eyes. Swallowing, he cleared his throat before speaking.

"I threw a- a tool at a fellow student, and damaged her eye badly."

The king made a noise of distaste, "You can do better than that. Try again – tell me the great story of your First Blood! Prove to me that you are worthy to be in my presence!" He banged his axe on the ground, and Harry felt his heartbeat rise in his chest, pounding against his skin. His mind worked fast, trying to think-

"Hurry up!"

Harry flinched, before taking a quick breath, "I took First Blood during a lesson – my partner, a girl barely older than me, had ruined it. Our teacher was going to fail us, and we started to argue. We- we called each other names and said a lot of really rude stuff, and I could take it, but then my f- my ally stepped up to my defence, and my partner insulted her heritage. I reacted without thinking, I tried to defend her. I threw a trowel at my partners face, and it got her in the eye. She fell back, and blood was all over her hands. That's my story."

The king made a face, before waving it off, "Pitiful, but you are a child. You do not know how to tell tales of battle." He looked to Uncle Remus, "Rise and speak, werewolf. Tell me why we should break our word to the Wizards Lestrange."

Uncle Remus rose from the gritty ground, wiping the knees of his slacks before speaking. "As you know, the Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort claimed he was immortal. He would be right, due to his creation of horcruxes." Harry jumped at the sudden noise of anger from the king, but Uncle Remus continued. "Bellatrix Lestrange was charged with protecting one of seven. It is in her Gringotts vault-"

The king jumped to his feet, screaming in Gobbledegook. Goblins swarmed the chamber, and Harry was shoved away to the back of the room as goblins held his Uncle down, multiple silver weapons pressed to him tightly, causing steam to rise as it burnt him.

"You claim a piece of _erfdashtifdon_ lies in Gringotts?"

"I do claim, Your Highness, and if it is not, then I will willingly offer my nephew for a Fostering." Harry made a confused face. _Me?_ He must have been very confident that this… _horcrux_ , was in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. _Why is that name familiar?_

The king bared his pointy teeth, "I accept your alternative. May the search of the vault begin!"

* * *

Dora frowned at the sight of the boy Dobby had caught rifling through Harry's room. He looked like a Malfoy, but…she could sense his family magic. It was palpable – and she knew it, too. She'd felt it the day Harry had asked her to come to the Headmaster's office, when she'd looked at the irate Greengrass parents and tasted their magic in the air the way only a Black could.

They said Black Family Magic was limited to Transformative Magic. But they had no idea of the truth – that Black's not only had Transformative Magic, but Assimilation Magic.

Any family that married into their own and produced into the main branch would gift their own Family Magic to the bunch, but _only_ if the Black in question thought it was a useful magic. It was one of the reasons everyone had been so against Dorea Black marrying Charlus Potter during the wartime – they didn't want that kind of one-child Magic in their blood, and potentially in the main branch, if Voldemort killed them all.

A key aspect of Assimilation magic was therefore Categorising, and Sensing as well, though that was a learned talent rather than hereditary. And Tonks _knew_ that the magic that both this boy and the Greengrass' exuded was Empathy – which begged the question as to why Daphne Greengrass had been so callous to little Megan, but that was an entirely different topic.

"What's your name?" She asked, after a short while. The boy, tied up in a blanket, with Dobby behind him holding a kitchen knife, looked terrified, but not because of the house-elf or the fact that he'd been caught. Dora wanted to know what made him so scared, but asking directly would probably make him worse.

At her question, he swallowed roughly, before cringing and speaking, "I'm Scorpius, Scorpius Malfoy."

"I figured you were one, but I'm cousin to Draco – I know his family tree. No Scorpius on there. Real name, please."

"It _is_ my real name," he made a face, "I was named Scorpius Malfoy when I was born, by my mother, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass." Astoria, who was that? Did Daphne have an aunt or a sister or something? The Greengrass' were a new family – Dora's family tree didn't include them, even when she branched out to different family names. There was not one single Greengrass.

"Say I believe you," she replied, watching him with an amused look, "what were you doing in Harry's room?"

"I've got to get the cloak," he whispered, making Dora's face drop. "I've got to get it – he should have got it from Dumbledore at Christmas, but it's not in his room."

Dora's heart thumped wildly in her chest.

The cloak.

 _Harry's invisibility cloak_.

Something he was apparently meant to get for Christmas.

Which she _knew_ he hadn't received.

Which begged the question as to how _Scorpius_ knew – and how he knew anything about the original timeline at all.

"Scorpius…" she addressed him carefully, "Harry didn't get the cloak. I think things have changed too much." She watched him carefully, watching every move he made. _Is he from the future?_

"No, no, it's not like that," he shook his head, looking at her. "I know what's happened to you and Mr Lupin, and all the others – I read it on the Jumper. I'm from a different world, where you never went back in time and everything kept going on. Your son, Teddy Lupin, he grew up with Harry and Ginny, and their kids, and was dating Vicky- Victoire Weasley last time I checked – and my dad, Draco Malfoy, married my mum and had me the same year Harry and Ginny had Al." He cringed, but Dora didn't care.

"What do you know about Teddy?" Scorpius struggled in the blanket-rope around him and Dora nodded to Dobby, who untied him quickly. "Tell me about my son."

Scorpius stretched out his limbs, standing up. "Uh, well he was graduated by the time I went to Hogwarts, but Al – Albus Potter, Teddy's godbrother – said he was Head Boy, and prefect-"

"Head Boy and Prefect?" Dora repeated, aghast, "What?!"

Scorpius made a face of impatience that reminded her of his father, and grandfather, from her sparse memories of them, before repeating what he said.

"Al said he was Head Boy, and prefect, and that he was in Hufflepuff." A wide, awe-filled grin spread over Dora's face. _Remus owes me ten galleons._ "He liked to wear his hair in turquoise, and the one time I saw him, I thought he looked weird. He had piercings like you do, but a _lot_ more, all over his ears, and some on his face too – he had two circles on his bottom lip, and a bunch on his eyebrow, and one on his nose too. He dressed like a muggle." Dora could see it, in her minds eye. He would look like Remus, but punk and awesome and amazing.

So wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely remembered the guests she was expecting.

Floo flaring behind her, Dora only turned in time to see Charlie landing on the carpet, a large, tightly bundled lump on his chest. He grinned at her, before moving out of the way of the next arrival – Kali, with the same tightly bundled lump on her chest, who arrived on her feet but swayed slightly, Charlie coming to support her.

"Nymphadora!" She exclaimed as Dora started smiling, coming towards them.

"Hey guys," she hugged them both lightly before looking at the bundles. "Are these-"

"Zorya Lilith and Zara Nymphadora Weasley," Kali chirped, before Charlie led her over to a sofa to sit down, giving her a chance to take one of the girls off her chest, Dora crouching in front of her to see her goddaughter.

Charlie then caught sight of Scorpius, who now stood awkwardly, Dobby and the blanket ties gone. "And who's this?"

Dora, caught up in cooing over Zorya, looked over, blinking rapidly in succession as she tried to come up with a story, "Uh…this is Scorpius…my…cousin. Yeah," she stood, coming over to clap him on the shoulder, steering him to sit on the sofa opposite Kali and Charlie, "this is my little cousin, Scorpius Black. He's staying here, indefinitely, because his parents are assholes and we have no idea what to do with him. That's like, the third eleven year old we've picked up now," she mused, looking at him. Scorpius seemed rather stunned by her words, but not especially surprised.

"Third?" Charlie questioned.

"Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom," Kali informed wisely, making Charlie stare for a second, before she continued speaking. "Charlie, love, why don't you take Zara out? She's waking up." Charlie jolted into action, starting to take the baby out as Dora came around again, Kali shuffling up so they could sit together, handing Zorya over for her to hold.

"You are beautiful, little one," Dora whispered with a smile, running her fingers through soft, strawberry blonde hair. "How old are they now? Two months?"

"Nearly – seven weeks tomorrow," Kali sighed, leaning her head on Dora's shoulder, golden hair slipping from behind her ear over the metamorphmagus' shoulder. Dora playfully matched it, causing the girl to grin, pinching her lightly. "That's my hair you're stealing – take Charlie's instead."

"I think I like Scorpius'," Dora quipped, before matching the Malfoy blonde. Scorpius' face flushed slightly, before Dora paused in her cooing of Zorya to change her hair into what she'd once seen of her Aunt Narcissa's – blonde sides and brown for the rest, with a sweeping fringe to match. Kali hummed appreciatively, momentarily taking her head off her shoulder to look.

"It's very different from your normal styles, quite strange actually…it doesn't really suit your face."

Dora shrugged, noticing Scorpius' sudden stare, and in answer changing her hair back to it's usual bubblegum pink. "So are they bad at night?"

"Terrible," Kali groaned, "I asked Molly how she handled having so many children – which reminds me!" She shot up, pointing her finger at Dora, "I asked you to tell the boys at Hogwarts! According to them, you've been gone from school well before then! They came to Romania with their parents and Ginny, and unlike the girls and Arthur, who Charlie visited a week prior, they were pretty fucking gobsmacked to find out they were uncles to twins. Oh!" She looked to Scorpius, "Don't repeat that!"

Dora glanced at the Malfoy, "I think he's poised enough not to use swears. He's all very uppity."

"Am fucking not," he replied smugly. Immediately Dora's well-mannered expression dropped.

"What did you just say?" Scorpius blinked before going slightly green at her suddenly _very extremely angry_ expression. "Did I hear what I think I heard?"

He stood, waving his hands. "No, I didn't say anything-"

"Dobby!" Dora called, the house-elf appeared.

"Yes Mistress?"

She pointed to Scorpius, "Introduce my swearing, little baby cousin Scorpius to the wonders of washing his mouth out with soap." Dobby made a scandalised noise, before looking to Scorpius.

"Is Mistress' small cousin saying bad words to Mistress?" His eyes became fiery, pointing his finger at Scorpius, "Small wizards do not say bad words." He stomped forwards, Scorpius trying and failing to scramble away. They were gone a second later.

Dora looked to Charlie, "Can I see Zara now?" She'd figure out what to do with him later.

* * *

Green eyes narrowed, facing stationary dark grey.

A few more seconds passed.

Grey eyes became covered.

Harry whooped, "Yes! I win!" Scorpius groaned, rubbing his eyes, which had gone dry during their staring match. "You owe me a galleon now!"

"I don't even have any pocket money yet!" The blonde bemoaned.

"Then you shouldn't have bet a galleon," Sirius barked, laughing. Across the room, Andromeda and Dora looked on, neither amused.

"Boys," Dora shook her head. Andromeda nodded.

"I think it'll be nice to have another child around the house – and it'll certainly be interesting to see if he gets a Hogwarts letter for next year. If he does, he'll have a home in us to come back to, but if he doesn't…well, I've always been a talented witch, and Ted knows enough about magic itself to be able to actually test his knowledge on theory."

Dora nodded. "You should know, this is weird even for me. He's like…my cousin's son. My first cousin once removed?"

"Something like that. Which makes him my great nephew. What a life we lead," Andromeda chuckled, before glancing over at her. "You're taking your NEWTS soon."

"Yeah, and it'll be a total bore – I just hope I don't get worse scores than last time around. Hopefully my potions score will go up. That was crap last time- ow!" Dora put a hand to her head, where her mother had hit her, "Mum!"

"Language," she reprimanded, "You are in charge of not one but three eleven years olds, and if Ted is to be believed, you'll be having your own children soon enough." Dora looked to her hands. "Dora, in your other life, did…did you have children? Before you died?"

Dora didn't answer for a few seconds, fiddling with the cuff of her long-sleeved Hopping Cauldrons band shirt. "He was born a week before I died. His name was Teddy – Edward Remus." She glanced at her mother, giving a tight smile. "You were looking after him, last I had checked. Scorpius said that you and Harry – his godfather – raised him together."

"You should ask for memories, if he's met him," Andromeda offered quietly, glancing at the Malfoy. "It could give you some closure."

"Could you ask him?" Dora asked, "I mean, he will be going to your house and everything."

"'And everything' being the fact that he'll be stealing your room."

"He'll be what, now?!" Dora yelped, standing up. "But- but what about my stuff? What about when _I_ come over?"

"You've moved out, Dora. You should have taken your stuff with you," Andromeda smirked, "And for when you come over, the guest bedroom should be free – or the couch. Whichever comes first."

Dora looked at her mother in horror.

"Please tell me you haven't moved my stuff."

In reply, the witch took a handful of shrunken boxes out of her pocket, setting them on the ground and slowly enlarging them.

"There you go."

"I hate you. I _hate_ you."

"No, you really do not."


End file.
